


High Tide

by iliura



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Beach Volleyball, Fluff, Humor, Ice Cream Parlors, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Summer Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:48:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 46,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24223816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iliura/pseuds/iliura
Summary: A beach vacation, a few hours out of Tokyo, filled with sand volleyball and no serious responsibilities. It's everything Bokuto Koutarou could hope for, and he's planning to make the most of it. His luck only gets better when he meets beach town resident and ice cream addict, Akaashi Keiji, who lights up his world. And they have two uninterrupted months to spend getting to know each other.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 183
Kudos: 271





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Will I ever post a Haikyuu fic that's not Bokuaka? The world may never know. 
> 
> This fic is honestly so self-indulgent, and I promise it has plot, I just wanted to write something full of fluff. If you've read any of my other fics, you'll probably be rejoicing in that. 
> 
> This is a college au, so these boys are all 18 or older. There is some underage drinking, but nothing outrageous happens. Honestly, it's just a bunch of college kids at the beach, living their best lives for a couple months and falling in love. Like I said, self-indulgent.

The world looked washed out and blindingly white as Bokuto stepped through the doors of the gymnasium and onto the sidewalk. He blinked a few times, watching as the blurred lines of buildings and signs slowly solidified and resumed their traditional shapes. He blinked again and sighed out the tension in his lungs, watching the small cars buzz by and wind through the city streets. People were bustling past him on all sides, and a few people even brushed his exposed shoulders, murmuring apologies as they continued on their way. 

Bokuto turned on his heel and fell into the flow, walking at a slow pace close to the buildings that lined the sidewalk. His muscles ached and burned, stretched way beyond their usual capacity. He supposed he could have stayed a little while longer to stretch properly, but he was so nervous that he’d basically run out of the gym as soon as the coaches had ended the tryouts. 

While waiting at a crosswalk, Bokuto propped the ball of his foot against the curb and leaned into it, reveling in the way the movement pulled the muscles in his calf. He repeated the process with his other foot, then clasped his hands together behind his back and squeezed his shoulders together. It wasn’t a true, deep stretch, but it would do until he got home. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a group of girls watching him. He glanced at them, smiled, and gave a small wave; the girls all giggled and turned away, their cheeks tinged pink. They poked at each other and covered their mouths, occasionally glancing back to him but not letting their eyes linger for more than a few seconds. Bokuto noticed they all wore the uniforms of a local high school. He glanced down at the watch he wore, noting that it was the time most schools usually let out. 

A year ago he would have been walking home or to some restaurant with his own friends after school. In fact, he probably would have been sitting with his friends and studying for college entrance exams. He idly wondered if those high school girls were third years preparing for their own exams. He remembered how stressful that time had been; he certainly didn’t miss it. 

The light changed and Bokuto stepped out onto the crosswalk. The noise of the city fell into place in the back of his mind. It was so commonplace for him to hear the soft rumble of cars, murmurs of people around him, horns and whistles and the occasional yelling, that he only noticed now when he didn’t hear them. His pace quickened, keeping up with the flow of the crowd and his eagerness to reach his destination. He was starting to notice his hunger. 

Bokuto rounded a corner at another crosswalk and entered the double doors of a small apartment building. He fished around in his gym bag as he trotted up the steps, grabbing the keys from the front pocket. He also glanced at his phone, noting a good luck message from his mother and two new emails from a professor about a final project. He opened the emails and looked at the comments, felt satisfied, and then opened his messaging app to read his mother’s message. He clicked her name to call her just as he reached the floor he was looking for. He tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder as he fed the door the key. 

His mother picked up almost immediately. “How did it go?” Her voice was a mixture of hopeful and apprehensive, and Bokuto felt his chest warm.

“It was good, I think,” he replied, pushing the door open. He transferred his phone to his hand and held it in place, shutting the apartment door and slipping his shoes off. He looked up at the occupants on the couch on the far side of the room, and he tipped his chin up in acknowledgement as he walked into the kitchen. “I felt good when I left.”

“Oh honey, that’s great. That’s what matters. But I’m sure you’ll make it; you’ve trained so hard.”

Bokuto opened the refrigerator and grabbed a sports drink from the door. “I hope so. It was tough, and there were a lot of really talented players.”

His mother scoffed. “No one is as talented as you, Kou.”

“I think you’re a little biased but thank you.”

“Will you be home for dinner tonight?”

“I’m at Kuroo and Kenma’s now, and judging by the state of their refrigerator, yes.”

Kuroo said something from the living room, but Bokuto couldn’t quite hear it; he assumed it was something full of expletives that he didn’t want repeated, anyway. He just smiled instead. 

”Tell them they are welcome for dinner as well,” his mother said. 

“Will do. I’m going to go; I’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay, I love you.”

“I love you too.” Bokuto hung up and grabbed a protein bar from the counter, wandering back into the living room and plopping down on the carpeted floor. 

Kuroo sat on one end of the ragged couch with his feet curled under him and his hair looking even more bedhead-ish than normal. Bokuto guessed he had just woken up recently. Kenma was on the other end of the couch, staring intensely at a textbook in his lap and alternating between turning pages and typing on his laptop, which was balanced on the arm of the couch. 

“Quit talking shit about our apartment or we’ll take your key,” Kuroo said, uncurling a leg and poking Bokuto in the stomach with a sock covered toe. 

“Then go grocery shopping,” Bokuto replied as his hand shot out and snatched up Kuroo’s foot. He yanked the sock off as Kuroo yelped in protest, and Bokuto held his friend’s ankle firmly as he poked the sole of Kuroo’s foot. Kuroo squirmed and tried to pull his foot away, then reached out and grabbed a fistful of Bokuto’s hair. Bokuto rolled away, and Kuroo rolled with him, tumbling off the couch and on top of Bokuto. They wrestled on the floor, Bokuto poking Kuroo in the sides, until Kenma threw a pencil at them. 

“Shut up, I’m trying to study,” he muttered, glaring at them. 

Bokuto had Kuroo pinned on the carpet, one arm holding Kuroo’s wrists above his head, his knees dug into Kuroo’s shins, and a hand positioned to keep tickling Kuroo until he begged for mercy or peed himself, whichever came first. He loosened his grip when Kenma threw the pencil, and Kuroo took advantage of the moment of distraction to squirm out of Bokuto’s grip and roll away. His cheeks were flushed pink, and he was breathing heavily; he picked up the pencil Kenma had thrown and tossed it back at the grumpy boy.

“You know, you wouldn’t have to cram so much if you’d just go to class like a normal person,” Kuroo said, smirking. 

Bokuto nodded. “Yeah, even I go to class, Kenma. I’ve barely had to study.”

“You both are second years. You’re used to this whole university thing now,” Kenma replied. “I’m a first year, and I also have livestreams and blogs to maintain. Don’t forget who pays for this apartment, Kuro.”

Kuroo snatched Bokuto’s drink off the floor and took a swig of it. “Don’t act like I don’t contribute to this household. Without me, you would live off instant ramen and pickles.”

Bokuto took his drink back. “It looks like you have even less than that right now.”

“You shush,” Kuroo said, pointing a stern finger at Bokuto. He smiled then and sat cross legged, propping his chin in his palm. “So, I heard you tell your mom you thought the tryout went well?”

Bokuto leaned back on his hands, shrugging a shoulder. “Yeah, I think so. I mean, I was super nervous, so I definitely messed up a few times, but the coaches seemed like they were impressed.”

“I’m sure they were! You’re a beast.” Kuroo gestured vaguely to Bokuto’s arms. “Just look at you, you’re built like a tank.”

“Physical build doesn’t mean you’re a national level volleyball player,” Bokuto replied. 

Kenma glanced up from his textbook. “You’ve trained your body to be a national level volleyball player, Bokuto. I have no doubt the coaches were impressed.”

Bokuto slapped a hand to his chest and gasped in mock surprise. “Kenma, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!”

Kenma rolled his eyes but smiled, returning back to his studying. Kuroo smiled.

“So when will we know for sure that our best friend is officially on the national team?” he asked. 

“They said they have tryouts in other places, so they probably won’t be done until the fall,” Bokuto said. He fell back onto the carpet and stared up at the ceiling. “I don’t know how I’m going to survive the summer waiting.”

“Koutarou, stop eating the barbeque before we sit down for the meal.”

“You made more than we all could ever eat, Mama.”

Kuroo smacked Bokuto’s hand away from the plate of meat. “Speak for yourself, Bo. I could eat your mom’s cooking all day.”

Kenma reached around Kuroo and picked up the plate, walking over to the table and setting it down. Then, he turned to return to the kitchen, leaning in close to Kuroo as he passed him. “Come help Bokuto’s mother or I will make sure you eat nothing. She made all this food for us, show some respect.” His words came out in a low hiss. 

Kuroo stiffened and saluted him. “Yes sir.” He smirked at Bokuto as he followed Kenma into the kitchen. “He gets bossy around good food.”

Bokuto rolled his eyes and followed them, helping his mother finish prepping their meal and bringing it to the table. They all sat together, offered their prayers, then began eating.

“Do you boys have any plans for the summer break?” Bokuto’s mother asked. 

Kuroo nodded and hastened to swallow the clump of rice he’d just shoveled into his mouth. Kenma, who was eating at a much more reasonable pace, beat Kuroo to the reply. “Kuroo and I are planning on spending the break in Shimoda City, at Shirahama. We used to vacation there every summer break as kids with our families, but we didn’t get to go last year.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful,” Bokuto’s mother said. She turned to her son. “Kou, you haven’t told me about any plans you have. Please tell me you aren’t planning on working the entire break.”

Bokuto piled some meat in his mouth and chewed slowly, hoping that Kuroo or Kenma would change the subject. He could have kissed Kuroo when he spoke up, but then he wanted to kick him after hearing what he said. 

“Bo, you should come with us,” Kuroo said. He glanced over at Kenma, as if asking for permission, and Kenma nodded encouragingly. “Kenma and I already paid for the place we’re staying in, and I always work at this cool ice cream place down there for the break. I’m sure they would hire you.”

Bokuto swallowed the food in his mouth almost whole, wincing as the lump got lodged in his throat momentarily then slid down. He shook his head. “I really appreciate the offer, but I can’t do that –”

“Why not?” his mother asked. 

Bokuto paused and stared at her. “Mama, I work like, three jobs during my breaks. It’s how I help you pay the bills.”

His mother smiled softly and set down her chopsticks. “I know, but I’ve been saving, and you worked extra over your last breaks because you were going to miss time since starting school again. I saved all of that and we’re doing just fine. You deserve a real break.”

Bokuto shook his head again, slowly. “Mama, if we want to keep the savings, I need to keep working.”

Kuroo held up a hand to interrupt. “Bo, I totally get your concerns. But I promise that this place I’m talking about will pay you at least as much as you make at your normal jobs, maybe even more.”

“Kuroo, ice cream places don’t exactly pay a living wage,” Bokuto replied, deadpanning. 

The corners of Kenma’s lips quirked up in a small, rare smile. “Kuro is telling the truth. He makes more money at that ice cream place than he does working at the grocery store here, and he works less hours at the ice cream place.”

“The people who own the shop are loaded,” Kuroo said, smirking. Then his smile faltered, and he waved his hands about frantically. “But they’re really nice people! They pay us a lot because they know we need the money.”

“Kou, I think you should go,” his mother said. She reached over and placed her soft, slightly withered hand on her son’s cheek. Bokuto leaned into it on instinct, enjoying the subtle warmth his mother always emitted. “You loved the beach when you were little, but I could never take you back. You should go and relax and enjoy your break.”

Bokuto sighed. “I don’t know…”

“This beach has like, a hundred sand volleyball pits,” Kenma said, taking a small bite of his food. He didn’t look up from his bowl, just gave a smirk that mimicked Kuroo’s. “It would be great training for you.”

Bokuto’s apprehension melted away faster than an ice cube in a freshly poured mug of tea.

______________________

Akaashi flinched when his normally darkened room was suddenly flooded with bright, warm light. He groaned and squinted toward his window, then flopped onto his side and pulled his covers over his head. He felt a weight pull down the corner of the mattress, then movement as someone crawled across the bed and plopped down next to his body. A few seconds later, a second weight was added to the other side of the bed, then his comforter was being tugged down from around his head.

Akaashi peeked over the hem of his blanket at the two pairs of brown eyes staring down at him. He huffed and blinked. “What time is it? Why are you in my house?”

Oikawa, who sat on the edge of the bed and who Akaashi guessed was the one who so rudely yanked his curtains open, stretched his arms over his head and stifled a yawn. “It’s good to see you, too, my darling little Aka-chan.”

“It’s a little after nine,” Suga chimed, actually replying to Akaashi’s question, “and your parents let us in.” He gave Akaashi his signature, sweet smile.

Akaashi glared at him anyway, then tried to tuck his face under his pillow. Oikawa snatched it away and tossed it across the room, earning an irritated swat from Akaashi, which he dodged easily. 

“It’s time to get up,” Oikawa told him, grabbing Akaashi by the wrist and shaking his now limp hand. “The sun is shining, your best friends are back from university on summer break, and the sea is calling!” He gestured grandly with his free hand, tipping his head back dramatically as if he were acting in a play. 

Suga rolled his eyes as Akaashi wrestled his wrist free and tucked his hands to his chest. “I don’t want to get up, Oikawa.”

“Oh no, oh no,” Oikawa cooed suddenly, leaning very close to Akaashi and examining his face. “You’re breaking out. Have you not been doing a skincare routine?” He pressed fingers into Akaashi’s forehead and cheeks, poking at the small red dots that were (barely) there.

Akaashi grunted and sat up suddenly, squirming back against the wall and pulling his knees up to his chest defensively. He brought a hand to his cheek self-consciously as he glared at Oikawa, and he instinctively scooted toward Suga for protection from the other’s prying hands and eyes. “Oikawa stop touching my face. That’s only going to make it worse.”

Suga glanced sympathetically at his younger friend. “Were you really stressed from your first round of exams at university? They’re not so bad once you get used to them. I always think they’re a lot easier than the ones in high school.”

Oikawa nodded vigorously. “For sure! But you still need to take care of your skin, especially if you’re going to be in the sun so much during break. Lucky for you, I always carry a facemask cream.” He reached for something on the floor – presumably a bag – and dug around in it until he found what he was looking for. He produced a tube of clay-like cream and squeezed some into his hand, then scooted closer to Akaashi to begin smearing it on his face.

Akaashi frowned, but he didn’t pull away. It wasn’t like he was unused to Oikawa’s lack of personal boundaries, nor was he unaccustomed to Oikawa smearing facemasks on him when he deemed Akaashi wasn’t taking proper care of his skin. Also, truthfully, the cream was soothing and smelled nice, so Akaashi was willing to have it on his face. 

He did squirm, however, when Oikawa demanded that he tell them all about his first term at university. “Um, actually…” Akaashi glanced nervously at Suga, who was giving him a concerned stare, then glanced at his lap where his fingers were clasped together. “I didn’t go to university.”

Oikawa’s ministrations paused abruptly, and Akaashi saw Suga’s jaw go slack from the corner of his eye. His friends stared at him for what felt like centuries, and Akaashi began to fidget nervously. He twisted his index finger and thumb around each finger on his left hand, pulling at the joints and squeezing his fingertips before moving on. Once he reached his pinky, he switched hands and repeated the process on his right. 

Finally, Suga spoke. “Akaashi, what are you saying? You told us you were going to the University of Tokyo when we saw you at Christmas.”

Akaashi nodded slowly, then pressed his palms flat together and laced his fingers. “I was planning on going there, but I ended up never taking the entrance exams.”

Oikawa seemed to regain his wits and finished smearing the clay on Akaashi’s face. Then he sat back, crossed his legs, and tilted his head. “You’re like, the smartest person I know, Aka-chan. Why wouldn’t you go to university?”

“I just decided I didn’t want to go,” Akaashi replied, offering a weak shrug. “I don’t really know what I would study.”

“So what have you been doing all this time?” Oikawa asked.

“Working at the shop.”

Oikawa groaned and tipped his head back. “Aka-chan, you _cannot_ spend your entire life working at that little ice cream shop!”

Akaashi crossed his arms and pouted. “Why not? I like it.”

Suga rested a hand on Akaashi’s shoulder, causing the younger boy to look at him. He gave Akaashi a knowing smile. “Akaashi, is this about Keiko?”

Akaashi’s eyes fell to a random spot on the bed and he frowned. His chest ached, and he pressed his lips together in a straight line to compose himself. He didn’t respond, mostly because he knew he didn’t need to. Suga wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t already know the answer, but he needed to ask so Oikawa would understand. 

And understand, Oikawa did. Akaashi saw Oikawa’s shoulders droop a bit, and then he was reaching forward and taking Akaashi’s hands in his. “Aka-chan, she would want you to go to university.”

Akaashi sighed and leaned against Suga’s shoulder. Suga supported him automatically, draping an arm across his shoulder and hugging him gently. “I know she would,” Akaashi said, closing his eyes. “But I mean it when I say I don’t know what I want to do. Plus I think I just… need some more time.”

Suga tightened his hug a bit, and Oikawa nodded even though Akaashi’s eyes were closed. The three of them sat in silence for a few minutes, then Akaashi opened his eyes and blinked at Oikawa. 

“Oikawa, this facemask is starting to harden.”

Oikawa grinned and rolled backwards off the bed, trotting to the bathroom to grab a washcloth. He brought it back, slightly damp, and began wiping the now dry mask off Akaashi’s face. 

“How about we go shopping after breakfast?” Oikawa suggested as he worked. 

Akaashi shook his head. “I don’t want to go shopping.”

Suga frowned. “Akaashi, you always want to go shopping.”

“I think I gained weight,” Akaashi mumbled, rubbing his thighs slightly.

“It’s probably because all you’ve been doing is sleeping and eating ice cream,” Oikawa chided. 

Suga smacked Oikawa on the back of the head. “You don’t look like you gained any weight, Akaashi. And even if you did, then we’ll just buy you shorts that are a little bigger.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Kou, honey, it’s fine. I promise.”

“But Mama, I’m worried about you being all alone.” Bokuto fidgeted nervously in his seat, glancing sideways down the aisle to see if Kuroo or Kenma were returning. He didn’t see them yet. Despite his excitement for his vacation, he couldn’t help but worry for his mother. “Plus, what if a random expense comes up?”

“Then I will dip into the savings,” his mother replied. Her voice was steady and soothing, and despite Bokuto wanting to feel worried, he had to admit her confidence calmed him.

“Can I send you money then?” Bokuto picked at a few loose strands of hair around his temples. He wondered if he had missed them when he’d styled his hair that morning, or if they’d come untucked when he had been sleeping with his face smashed against the train window. 

His mother chuckled. “If it would make you feel more at ease, yes. But I also think you deserve every bit of money you earn over break. You should keep it for yourself and have fun with your friends, Kou. You’ve worked so hard in university, and I’m so proud of you for how good your grades are. You’ve more than earned this.”

Bokuto smiled and felt his cheeks warm at his mother’s praises. “I’m glad you’re proud.”

“Of course I’m proud. I have to go now, I’m about to walk into work. Let me know when you arrive, and send me pictures, okay? Tell Kuroo-kun and Kenma-kun I said hello!”

Bokuto bid his mother farewell and hung up just as Kuroo and Kenma returned to their seats. They both carried armfuls of snacks and boxes of candy, and Kuroo tossed Bokuto a couple of them as he sat. 

“How much longer until we get there?” Bokuto asked as he pulled open his bag of chips. 

“It’s about three hours out of the city,” Kuroo replied, taking a bite of his candy bar. “I’d say we still have an hour and a half or so.”

“You should take another nap so I can get more pictures of you drooling on the window,” Kenma quipped, smirking at Bokuto. 

Bokuto huffed and shoved a handful of chips in his mouth, glaring out the window. The train was moving quickly, but he could still make out the shapes of the blurred landscape. He’d spent most of his life taking trains to get places, but he couldn’t recall the last time he traveled more than twenty minutes out of the middle of Tokyo. The surrounding suburbs and fields were a sight to behold, and Bokuto let himself fall into a comfortable state of distraction. 

Much to Kenma’s dismay, he didn’t take another nap, but he did put on headphones and listen to music quietly while he watched the world roll by. Occasionally the train slowed to a stop to let off passengers and pick up more, and slowly the stations grew further and further apart as distance grew between them and the city. Bokuto marveled at the small homes and quaint towns they passed. He found himself enchanted by the charm of a small town life, especially when he caught sight of strangers riding their bikes leisurely down the sidewalks and waiting at the tracks as the train buzzed by. He wondered what life would be like in such a small place, if he would still be the same Bokuto if he’d grown up in a town like those instead of Tokyo. 

Eventually the fields and towns gave way, and Bokuto caught his first glimpse of the vast ocean toward which he and his friends were headed. He sat up in his seat, straining his eyes to catch yet another glimpse of the glittering blue in the distance. He had only vague memories of the beach from his childhood, and those mostly consisted of sand in his swimming shorts and his mother holding him under an umbrella against his will as she slathered sunscreen on his skin. 

Kuroo grinned at Bokuto, and he leaned forward a bit in his seat to look out the window and catch a glimpse of the sea for himself. He pointed at a spot in the distance, and Bokuto followed his gesture to see a large, colorful wheel. He squinted, unsure of what exactly he was looking at, then glanced back at Kuroo with a questioning look. 

“That’s the Ferris wheel on the boardwalk,” Kuroo explained. 

Bokuto’s eyes lit up with excitement, and he whipped his head back to look at the distant shape again. It moved along the horizon as the train sped down the tracks, but Bokuto watched it intently. It was bright red and blue, and he could picture it covered in blinking lights as the sun set against the ocean. His heart leapt with excitement, and he turned back to his best friend and bounced giddily in his seat. 

“Can we ride it?” he asked, grinning from ear to ear. 

Kuroo laughed obnoxiously, earning a few strange glances from other passengers, and even Kenma chuckled softly. Kuroo patted Bokuto on the shoulder and nodded. “We’ll ride it as many times as you want, Bo.”

The rest of the train ride was excruciating for Bokuto; his nervousness about leaving his mother behind in Tokyo withered under the weight of his excitement as they neared their destination. He practically leapt off the platform after they disembarked, and Kuroo had to hold him back from darting down the street in some random direction. 

Kenma used his phone for directions to the house they were renting for the break, and they set off on foot. Bokuto skipped beside his friends, taking in the sights and smells of his new surroundings. His heart swelled with delight as the breeze brushed his cheeks, warming his skin with its soft fingers. His senses were stimulated by the sound of the ocean lapping at the shore in the short distance, and he watched as the sun twinkled on the surface of the blueish water. The air smelled like salt, and it hung with heavy humidity that hugged him through his thin t-shirt. 

The whole place felt magical, and Bokuto wondered if he was dreaming. They rounded the corner of the sand-dusted sidewalk and Kenma pointed ahead, indicating that the house nearest to them was their new home for the next few weeks. Kuroo produced a key from his bag and opened the door, and the small house welcomed them with a rush of cool air. They stepped inside, and Kuroo immediately dropped his bags by the door and plopped on the light gray couch against the wall. 

“I think I’ll just stay here for the entire break,” he said, sighing happily and sinking into the cushions. 

Kenma strolled past him and headed for a hallway. “That’s fine, that means I get a bedroom all to myself then.”

Kuroo opened one eye and watched Kenma walk away. “You love sharing a bed with me!” 

Kenma mumbled something unintelligible from down the hall, and Kuroo rolled his eyes and rose from the couch. He grabbed his bags and followed Kenma, using his head to gesture for Bokuto to follow. 

“This place only has two bedrooms, but Kenma and I have been sharing beds since we were kids, so we don’t mind giving the other bedroom to you,” Kuroo explained as he walked. He pointed to a door across the hall from the room Kenma was already in. “This one is yours. Go ahead and get unpacked, and then we’ll take you for a tour around the town.”

Bokuto thanked him and then entered his temporary bedroom. It was small, but still bigger than his bedroom at home. That didn’t matter though. Bokuto had a feeling he wouldn’t be spending much time in it anyway. He fell back onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling, which was painted a pleasant shade of light blue, and took a moment to revel in the fact that he _wasn’t_ dreaming. He was actually about to spend the next two months at the beach with his best friends. It was wild to think about, and he couldn’t help but grin like a child in a candy store. 

A half hour later, Bokuto was walking in step with Kuroo and Kenma down a small, shop-lined street. The people around him walked at a leisurely pace, something he was wholly unused to. The people in Tokyo bustled about even when they had nowhere to go; Bokuto knew that because he always walked like he had a purpose even when he didn’t. It was just how the city influenced you. But this place made Bokuto feel lazy and relaxed, and even Kuroo walked at a slower pace than his long, lanky legs usually took him. 

Kuroo paused in front of a colorful storefront. Bokuto stopped close behind him, and Kenma glanced up from his phone to see where they had stopped. Once he saw, he smiled and opened the door to enter. 

Kuroo glanced over his shoulder to grin at Bokuto. “Bo, welcome to _Momo’s,_ the best ice cream shop in all of Japan.” 

They walked inside, and Bokuto was greeted with a collection of sweet smells. The far wall was adorned with a colorful menu, and a large counter with a clear guard stood right below. Behind the clear casing were deep buckets of all kinds of ice cream, and Bokuto stared in awe at the sheer amount of colors and flavors. Behind the counter was a shelf covered in a plethora of toppings, and then a few machines that Bokuto could only assume were used to make things like milkshakes. 

To the far left of the counter sat a small register, and behind that register sat a small, curly haired woman with a beautiful face. She glanced up from what she was doing and immediately smiled at the three of them. She leapt up from her stool and came out from behind the counter. 

“Tetsu! Kenma! I wondered if you two would be here this summer!” she exclaimed as she enveloped both boys in warm hugs. 

Bokuto lingered off to the side awkwardly, watching as Kuroo and Kenma returned the hugs. Kenma didn’t even look uncomfortable, which was an oddity for him. Kuroo gave the woman an incredibly fond look. 

“We actually had enough money to make it out here for break since our families aren’t coming during the summer months anymore,” Kuroo replied. Then he turned to Bokuto and gestured between him and the woman. “Bokuto, this is Aimi, she owns _Momo’s._ Aimi, this is my other best friend, Bokuto Koutarou. He and I were roommates during my first year at university.”

Aimi crossed the small space between them and hugged Bokuto, which startled him. The sweet faced woman laughed when she stepped away. “Sorry if that was forward, we aren’t very formal here. I call everyone by their given names, and everyone calls me by mine. Welcome to our little town!”

Bokuto smiled genuinely at her. “Thank you!” He was warmed by her, and her presence reminded him of his own mother. 

Aimi turned to Kuroo. “Will you be taking your usual job for the break? I missed you so much last year!”

Kuroo nodded and smiled. “Of course! I’m sorry we couldn’t be here, especially after all that happened.”

“Oh, that’s alright,” Aimi said softly, patting Kuroo on the arm. “It was probably better you weren’t here, anyway. We had to close _Momo’s_ down for a while. But I’m so glad you’re here this year.”

“I was wondering, could Bokuto maybe have a job here too?” Kuroo asked, nodding in his friend’s direction. 

Aimi turned back to Bokuto. “Do you have any experience working with food?”

Bokuto nodded. “Yes! I’ve worked in a café since my first year in high school, and I also work at a meat shop.”

“Perfect, then I think you can handle ice cream!” Aimi clapped her hands together. “Can you start Monday?”

“Uh… yeah! Yes, I can start Monday,” Bokuto replied. He blinked at Kuroo, who just shrugged and smiled. 

“Great. Tetsu, I’ll have you do your normal day shift; Bokuto, you’ll get the evening shift,” Aimi said. “I’ll see you boys Monday. I’m looking forward to working with you! Oh, take some ice cream!”

They waved goodbye to her as they left the shop, ice cream cones in hand. Bokuto tugged on Kuroo’s sleeve as they continued down the sidewalk.

“She didn’t even interview me,” he said with an air of incredulity. “She basically hired me on the spot!”

Kuroo threw his head back in laughter. “Oh yeah, Aimi is like that. You have a pulse, and you’re my friend, so I’m not surprised she hired you right there. I told you you’d get the job.”

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the _shitty_ boys! I thought I recognized that hyena laugh.”

The voice that spoke out to them came from across the street, and all three turned to find its source. Bokuto’s eyes fell on another trio of boys, all dressed in brightly colored clothing and carrying their own ice cream cones. Only two were turned toward them: an extremely tall boy with chocolate brown hair, and a silver haired boy with a pleasant smile. Their dark haired companion had his back to them as he admired a window display. 

The chocolate haired boy was smirking at them, specifically Kuroo, and he had one thin, manicured hand placed on his hip. Kuroo smirked back and crossed his arms, careful not to smear ice cream on his t-shirt. 

“I wondered if you hooligans would be back,” the tall boy called out from across the street. “I can’t say I missed your obnoxious laugh last summer.”

“Oikawa, I see university hasn’t done much to get that stick out of your ass,” Kuroo sneered. Then he stepped into the street and crossed it, Kenma and Bokuto trailing behind. 

Bokuto gave Kenma a curious look, and Kenma just shook his head and smiled softly. Bokuto took that to mean that they knew these boys and this kind of banter was commonplace. Oikawa snorted at them as they stepped onto the sidewalk. He eyed Bokuto skeptically, then turned back to Kuroo. 

“I expect that your new friend is just as unrefined as you are,” Oikawa chided. He was smiling while he talked, though, and Bokuto couldn’t bring himself to feel offended.

“Oikawa knock it off, you’re acting like an ass!” the silver haired boy scolded, kicking Oikawa in the shin. He then turned to Bokuto and flashed him a sweet smile. “I’m Sugawara Koushi, but you can just call me Suga. I apologize for my friend’s behavior. I promise he’s not actually that mean.”

“I’m Bokuto Koutarou,” Bokuto replied. “It’s nice to meet you.” Suga seemed like a genuinely nice person, and Bokuto could tell he already liked him. 

“Bo and I met our first year in university,” Kuroo said. “Bo, I’ve known these dorks since I was a kid. Oikawa thinks he runs this town, but he’s just full of it. Don’t listen to anything he says.”

Oikawa rolled his eyes, then glanced over Kuroo’s shoulder to eye Kenma. “Yahoo, Kenma! How are you? How is university? Do you love it?”

Kenma licked his ice cream and shrugged. “I live with Kuroo. That should tell you enough about my experience with university so far.”

Kuroo sputtered. “Hey!”

“Oh Kenma, why would you choose to live with this pain in the ass?” The question didn’t come from Oikawa or Suga, but from a new voice. The boy who had been looking in the window had rejoined the group, and he was now standing next to Kenma and licking melted ice cream off his fingers. 

Bokuto turned his attention to the new face, and he could have sworn his heart stopped beating right then and there. The tall, lean boy could have been an angel in human form, and Bokuto wasn’t totally convinced he wasn’t. The boy’s dark, messy hair curled slightly at the ends and twisted around his ears and across his temples, and his stormy blue eyes were focusing on the ice cream in and on his hands. His cheeks were slightly pink from being out in the sun all day, and Bokuto could make out a slight dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose and upper cheeks. 

His heart skipped multiple beats. Bokuto was fully aware that he was staring and that his jaw had come unhinged, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. The boy finally glanced up from cleaning his fingers of ice cream, and his eyes met Bokuto’s. It felt like time stopped in that moment. The dark haired boy stared back, his lips slightly parted, and the pink on his cheeks deepened in color.

“Oh my god, you’re beautiful,” Bokuto breathed. 

The boy’s eyes widened, and he quickly dropped his gaze to his feet, covering his mouth with a perfect hand. Their friends erupted into a chorus of exclamations (except Kenma), and Kuroo smacked Bokuto on the head. 

“Kuroo, call off your dog!” Oikawa cried, scampering over to his friend and wrapping an arm around him protectively. 

Suga was practically rolling on the ground with laughter, and Kenma was covering his mouth with a hand to hide his snicker. Bokuto’s face erupted in fire, and he smacked himself in the forehead with probably too much force. 

“I’m so sorry!” he groaned. 

“You’re a whole idiot, Bokuto,” Kuroo hissed. He shook his head, then laughed. “Well, I guess we should give a proper introduction. Bokuto, this is Akaashi Keiji. Akaashi, this is my dumbass friend, Bokuto Koutarou.”

Akaashi looked up from his feet, his cheeks now bright red, and he offered Bokuto a small smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Bokuto-san. And, um, thank you.” He turned then to swat Oikawa off him, who was still fawning over him dramatically. 

Bokuto melted like the forgotten ice cream in his hand. “Uh, yeah. You’re welcome.”

Kuroo tossed an arm around Bokuto’s shoulders and leaned against him, smirking. “Akaashi, if I remember correctly, you became legal back in December. Am I right?”

Kenma shot Kuroo a sharp glare. 

Akaashi quirked an eyebrow and returned Kuroo’s smirk. “You are, but just because I’m eighteen now doesn’t mean I’m remotely interested in you or that ridiculous hairstyle of yours.”

Oikawa snorted. Kuroo rolled his eyes and shook his head to flip some hair out of his face. “You love this style, just admit it.”

Akaashi rolled his eyes but smiled. Suga recovered from his laughing fit and stood up properly. “Are you guys planning on coming to the beach party tonight?” he asked. “It would probably be a really great way for Bokuto to get to know everyone.”

Oikawa groaned and leaned against Akaashi’s shoulder, who side-stepped toward Kenma and left Oikawa stumbling for his balance. He recovered, shot Akaashi a pouty glare, and straightened. “Suga-chan, no one wants the shitty boys at the beach party. They aren’t invited.”

“Oikawa, they show up every year. Kuroo always finds the alcohol and is halfway to sloshed before you even notice him. And then you two run off together to cause trouble,” Suga muttered, crossing his arms. He turned back to Kuroo and flapped his hands apologetically. “Not that we care! You’re totally invited! All of you!”

Kuroo laughed his normal, obnoxious laugh. “Oh, we’ll be there. You can count on it.”

Oikawa began to whine again, so Suga turned and tugged on his arm to pull him down the street. He waved goodbye apologetically, and then pushed Oikawa away. Akaashi went to follow them, made it a few steps, then turned back to them.

“You should definitely come to the party,” he said with a shy smile. Then he waved and followed his friends. 

His statement made it seem like he was talking to all of them, but his gaze had never left Bokuto. Kuroo elbowed Bokuto in the ribs to regain his attention, as Bokuto was too busy watching Akaashi saunter away in his peach colored shirt and little white shorts. Kuroo’s elbow pulled him out of his trance, and he followed his friends in the opposite direction from the angel faced boy that Bokuto was pretty sure he was in love with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm weak for a freckled Akaashi.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there. I'm back on my bullshit, posting chapters back to back. Don't worry, I haven't been writing for like two whole days. I'm taking care of myself. 
> 
> The sand volleyball is based off how we used to play it outside my freshman dorm when I was in college. We had a sand volleyball pit and it was the best.
> 
> Edit: Check end notes for art that was drawn for me for this chapter!!!!!!

Oikawa, Suga and Akaashi stepped off the sidewalk and onto the soft, still warm sand. Even though the sun was setting quickly over the horizon, the air was still soaked with warmth and the heat from the sun’s rays still lingered on the surface of the sand. The breeze that floated off the surface of the water ruffled their hair, and Akaashi reached up to tuck a strand behind his ear. It didn’t stay there for long.

Oikawa spotted the person he was looking for, and he threw his hands into the air and waved them about as he approached the boy standing at a small table on the beach. “Iwa-chaaaaaaan!”

Iwaizumi glanced up from the laptop situated on the table and rolled his eyes. Despite his negative body language, he opened his arms up to allow Oikawa’s warm embrace. Oikawa nuzzled his nose in Iwaizumi’s short, dark hair, then pulled away and bounced on his heels as he eyed the laptop screen. 

“Iwa-chan, is this your newest playlist?” Oikawa asked, leaning down to gaze at the small text. 

Iwaizumi gave a small wave to Suga and Akaashi as they caught up with their excited friend, then leaned down next to Oikawa. “Yup. You haven’t heard any of these yet, I wanted to save them for tonight as a late birthday gift for you.”

Oikawa squealed and threw his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck, causing the slightly shorter boy to stumble a bit in the shifty sand. Iwaizumi laughed anyway and hugged Oikawa back. 

“Oh, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa stepped away and clapped his hands together. “Are you still going to surf this year?”

Iwaizumi glanced over Oikawa’s shoulder to look at Akaashi, who was staring at the water. He caught Suga’s eye, who just shrugged, and then Iwaizumi nodded in answer to Oikawa’s question. “Yes, I plan on surfing. I haven’t been able to keep up with it as much since going to uni, but I’m looking forward to getting back into it.”

“I want to come watch,” Oikawa declared. He turned to Suga and Akaashi. “Will you guys come watch Iwa-chan surf with me this year?”

Suga opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off when Akaashi turned his attention away from the glittering surface of the water and to his friends. “I’m going to go join the game of volleyball. I’ll see you guys later. It was nice to see you again, Iwaizumi-san.”

With that, Akaashi turned and set off in a jog toward the sand volleyball pit that had a small crowd gathered around it. Oikawa frowned after him, and Suga watched him go with a troubled look. 

Iwaizumi sighed and poked Oikawa in the ribs. “That was insensitive, Shittykawa.”

Oikawa pouted. “I didn’t mean to…”

Suga patted Oikawa on the shoulder comfortingly. “He knows that. I’m going to go with him.”

Akaashi pretended like he didn’t know why Suga was watching him so intently while he waited to join the rotation. Suga was playing on the other side of the pit, so luckily Akaashi didn’t have to answer any soft, well-meaning questions. He hadn’t meant to sound short or rude when he walked away from Oikawa; he just didn’t want to talk about watching Iwaizumi surf. 

He returned his focus to the game as he entered the rotation to serve. The sheer volume of people that came to these parties usually meant the sand volleyball games were played with six people instead of two, and they always maintained a constant rotation so everyone could play. Most of the people who played the game didn’t play it like regular volleyball either, so Akaashi would have to wait until he rotated to the front to get to set to anyone. 

Akaashi’s team managed to score a few points, but then the tide turned and Suga rotated in on his side. The scoring bounced back and forth, and soon Akaashi was rotating into the setter position. That was his favorite position – the one he played when he was in high school – and he felt comfortable there. Suga’s team served the ball, and it soared through the breezy air. One of the other players received the ball, and Akaashi easily lifted his body slightly to set the ball to his wing spiker. The boy playing that position was decent, and he scored a point for their team, forcing Suga’s team to rotate. 

Suga moved up front, right on the other side of the net from Akaashi. As Akaashi’s team was getting ready to serve, Suga sent Akaashi a knowing look through the net. 

“Are you okay?” he inquired, opting to keep his eyes on Akaashi instead of where the ball was going. 

Akaashi, however, did watch where the ball was going. He followed its trajectory through the air, and he readied himself to block when Suga’s team attacked. His team was successful, and as Suga’s team rotated, Akaashi met his friend’s eyes. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Suga nodded with understanding and moved to the position of middle blocker. The next rally gained Suga’s team a point, and Akaashi rotated off the court. He slipped his sandals back on and lingered at the back of the group that was rotating in. Judging by the crowd tonight, it would be a while before he was back on the court unless people broke off into another game at a different pit. 

Suga’s team ended up winning the set, and Suga came off the court to allow a new group of people to start the next set. He wove through the crowd of meshed and moving bodies, making his way over to where Akaashi was standing. Akaashi had his arms wrapped around himself and held them at the elbows, watching the new set begin. Suga slid up next to him and rested an arm on his shoulder. They didn’t say anything to each other, and Akaashi let himself find comfort in his friend. He had missed Suga while he was away at school. 

Their quiet moment was interrupted, though, by a loud whoop and then a long, bony arm snaking its way around Akaashi’s shoulders from his other side. Akaashi glanced up to see a mess of wild hair and a signature smirk that he could only return with a smirk of his own. 

“Sorry we’re late,” Kuroo cooed, giving Akaashi a shake. 

“I didn’t notice,” Akaashi replied dryly. He peeked around Kuroo when he caught a glimpse of black and white at the taller boy’s shoulder. His eyes landed on Bokuto, who was watching the volleyball pit with wide, glittering eyes. Akaashi also saw Kenma lingering a few feet behind them, avoiding stepping into the throng of the crowd. The quiet boy’s eyes met Akaashi’s, and he gave him a small smile. 

Akaashi returned it and slipped from underneath Kuroo’s arm to step around him. He sidled up next to Bokuto and glanced up at him. Bokuto was thoroughly distracted by the game going on, and Akaashi used that moment to examine him more closely. His hair was slicked back, held in place by what Akaashi could only assume was some kind of gel, but it looked natural, as if the wind had simply placed each strand in place and didn’t bother them any further. His eyes were a color Akaashi had never seen nor was he sure he could describe: a mix of amber and melted gold, like the color of the sky closest to the sun as it sunk below the horizon. 

Those golden eyes slid slowly away from the game and met Akaashi’s. Bokuto’s facial expression seemed to acknowledge that he was being watched, scrutinized, and he twisted his mouth uncomfortably. Akaashi flicked his eyes away quickly, bringing his bottom lip between his teeth to worry it slightly. 

“I’m glad you could make it,” he finally said after an awkward few seconds. 

Bokuto cleared his throat softly. “Kuroo said these parties are a lot of fun. But, um, this doesn’t really look like normal volleyball.” He pointed to the sand pit and furrowed his brows in confusion. 

“They play a dumb version of volleyball here,” Kuroo chimed, inserting himself into the conversation. Suga had rounded their small group and come to stand near Akaashi again, and Kenma had inched forward to stand close to Kuroo’s side. “They have to rotate players constantly because so many people want to play. They could just start a game at another pit, but they never do.”

Bokuto tipped his head as he watched, his face a show of nothing but innocent curiosity, and Akaashi glanced sideways to watch him again. His eyes followed the players as they rotated on and off the court, but the corners of his mouth only turned down further in confusion. 

“We typically play our ‘traditional’ position on the court,” Akaashi explained. He pointed to the boy who was standing in the setter position. “If you’re in this quadrant, you just play setter. You don’t really move anywhere else on the court. If you’re serving, that’s all you really do. Obviously, you can receive, but the server wouldn’t move up to the setter position like in a normal game if he was the setter. Most of these people don’t play volleyball any other time than now, so this is a simplified way of playing.”

Bokuto nodded slightly in understanding, then turned his intense gaze on Akaashi. It caused Akaashi’s heart to stutter for a second. “Do you play volleyball Akaashi?”

“Yes, actually,” Akaashi replied. He swallowed his hammering heart and forced it into his stomach, giving Bokuto a semi-natural looking smile. “I played in middle and high school. I was a setter.”

Kuroo tossed an arm around Bokuto’s shoulders. “This man right here is on his way to joining the national team. And then he’ll probably go on to play in the Olympics or something.” He was smirking, but his eyes twinkled at Bokuto with a hint of pride, and Bokuto smiled sheepishly. 

“I don’t know about that,” Bokuto murmured, scratching the back of his neck nervously. 

“Are you really joining the national team?” Suga asked, his eyes wide with interest. 

“Well, I tried out for it,” Bokuto replied. Then he shrugged. “I don’t know if I made it though.”

“I’m sure you made it, Bokuto,” Kenma said softly, coming to stand near Bokuto’s elbow. He offered Bokuto one of his small but reassuring smiles. 

“You must be really talented,” Suga marveled, and Akaashi nodded in agreement.

Bokuto couldn’t help but puff up a bit with pride. “I mean, I am pretty good. I _was_ the ace on my team in high school. And I’m on my way to being that on my team in college, too.”

Kuroo leaned against Bokuto and draped himself around his friend dramatically. “Alright, enough talk about volleyball. We’ll have plenty of time to chat and play all break. Right now, I just want alcohol. And where is Oikawa? I need to harass him. I have all of last year to make up for.”

The group wandered across the sand toward the smaller crowd of people gathering near Iwaizumi’s table. It was commonplace for people to surround him and Oikawa, mostly because the two of them singlehandedly provided all the entertainment for these parties. Suga was in the lead, weaving around bodies and politely asking for way through. Akaashi trailed directly behind him, and Bokuto hung back by Kuroo and Kenma as they walked. 

They cleared the crowd and Oikawa spotted them right away, tossing his hands in the air and waving a bottle of beer at Kuroo. 

“Kuroo! Come here!” he called, waving enthusiastically. Kuroo chuckled and bounded over, throwing an arm around the tall boy’s shoulders and taking the bottle from him. He took a swig of it, and the two boys grinned at each other like school children; all previous animosity from earlier in the day had melted away. 

Akaashi smirked and slowed to fall in step with Kenma. “Oikawa is already halfway to wasted, how long until Kuroo follows?”

Kenma shrugged nonchalantly and flicked his hand. “You know how they get together. I’m going to go sit with Iwaizumi where it’s safe.”

He wandered away through the crowd, and Suga disappeared from Akaashi’s side, leaving him alone with Bokuto. Akaashi glanced up at him from the corner of his eyes, noting how excited Bokuto looked. He couldn’t help but smile. 

“We have parties like this almost every weekend,” Akaashi said, and Bokuto looked away from the crowd and at him. Akaashi pointed over to where Oikawa and Kuroo were speaking animatedly with Iwaizumi, who looked slightly annoyed. “That’s Iwaizumi. He’s Oikawa’s boyfriend, and he and Oikawa usually coordinate these things. Iwaizumi studies music, so he’s basically our resident DJ. Oikawa just has a lot of older friends who bring lots of alcohol.”

Bokuto hummed as he watched Oikawa bounce around Kuroo and give Iwaizumi a tight hug. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t really pin Oikawa as the kind of guy who likes boys.”

Akaashi snorted. “Oikawa doesn’t like boys, Oikawa likes Iwaizumi. Now Suga, Suga likes boys.” 

Bokuto grinned and tilted his head slightly at Akaashi. “And what about you?”

Akaashi tried valiantly to keep the corners of his lips from turning up in a smile, but he failed miserably. Instead, he looked away from Bokuto’s sharp gaze and shrugged noncommittedly, chewing on his bottom lip slightly. Bokuto only chuckled. 

Suga reappeared next to Akaashi carrying two cups filled with dark liquid and a bottle of beer tucked under his arm. He passed one cup to Akaashi, then tossed the beer to Bokuto. “Kuroo told me you were a beer kind of guy.”

Bokuto nodded and twisted the top off, taking a swig. “If I drink liquor, I do questionable things.”

Suga threw his head back and laughed loudly. He draped an arm around Akaashi’s shoulders and grinned. “Oh, then you’ll fit right in here with our dear Akaashi. He’s the king of poor decisions when he drinks. Last year, he got super drunk and then tried to take Iwaizumi’s surfboard and go surfing at like, two in the morning. Oikawa was with him, but he was hammered too, so he just wrapped himself around Akaashi’s knees and held on tight. We found Akaashi dragging Oikawa through the surf and wet sand, yelling about becoming one with the sea life.”

Akaashi put his hand over his face to hide his blush, and Bokuto snorted with laughter.

“At least Oikawa had enough sense to stop you,” Bokuto said between his giggles.

Akaashi dropped his hand and smiled sheepishly. “I don’t remember anything.”

That caused Bokuto to dissolve into a fit of laughter again, and Akaashi reached over to shove his arm lightly. Kuroo called out to them and they made their way over to where the rest of their friends were. Kenma was curled up on a blanket in the sand behind Iwaizumi, playing a game on his PSP, and Kuroo and Oikawa were taking turns annoying Iwaizumi with song requests. Akaashi plopped down next to Kenma and rested his chin on the smaller boy’s shoulder, watching him play his game. He smiled to himself when Bokuto chose to sit down next to him, but he didn’t look over. Suga sat on the other side of Kenma and watched Kuroo and Oikawa’s antics with amusement. 

As the night pressed on, Suga continuously disappeared to go retrieve more drinks and bring them back. Bokuto only drank about half of what Suga brought him, letting Kuroo take the rest of it. Kenma declined any alcohol, opting instead to sip on soda and show Akaashi his new games. Akaashi continued to drink whatever mixed concoction Suga brought him, not bothering to ask what he was drinking. He divided his attention between Kenma and Bokuto, but when Kuroo draped himself across Kenma’s lap and took all of the blonde’s attention, Akaashi was content to just talk to Bokuto. 

The breeze coming off the ocean turned a little chilly as the night pressed on. Oikawa was sitting in a chair, his knees pulled to his chest, curled against himself in Iwaizumi’s sweatshirt. Iwaizumi was still standing at his laptop, but one hand was carding through Oikawa’s wavy hair, and Oikawa was staring at Iwaizumi lovingly with glassy eyes. Kuroo hadn’t moved from Kenma’s lap, instead giggling softly and taking lazy sips out of his beer bottle as Kenma played with his crazy hair. Kenma smiled tenderly at him, seemingly content to put his PSP down and spend time with Kuroo. 

The alcohol had long since left Akaashi feeling warm and loose, both in movements and speech. He leaned directly against Bokuto’s shoulder, listening intently as Bokuto talked about what Tokyo and university was like. Bokuto had stopped drinking a while ago, content with the slightly buzzed feeling he had that increased his already bubbly personality.

Akaashi asked a steady stream of questions, working hard to keep Bokuto talking; he thought he could listen to Bokuto’s voice all day and night and never grow tired of it. Their conversation wandered across a number of topics, from the city to school to volleyball to how Bokuto styled his hair. The conversation turning directly to Bokuto’s appearance was the catalyst for Akaashi’s tendency to make poor decisions while intoxicated. 

Akaashi rolled off Bokuto’s shoulder and onto his knees, leaning up to poke Bokuto’s hair with a curious look. Bokuto’s voice faltered in his throat and he paused his sentence, watching Akaashi with amusement. 

“Whatcha doing?” he asked, a hint of teasing in his voice. 

Akaashi plopped his hand directly on the top of Bokuto’s head and curled his fingers around the black and white locks that were slightly ruffled from the wind. “Is your hair naturally like this Bokuto?”

Bokuto chuckled. “Nah, I bleached it when I was in middle school and was going through this weird hair phase. My mom wouldn’t let me dye it any colors, so she just settled with me bleaching it. It used to be all white, but then I let it grow out and kind of like how it looked. Now I just bleach the tips. I also used to spike it up, but now I just push it back. My mom says it’s more refined.”

Akaashi tilted his head and squeezed his hand, feeling the strands of hair loosen from the gel. “I like how you push it back like this. It’s cool. Is it soft underneath?” He didn’t wait for an answer, instead brought his other hand up and threaded his fingers into the hair at the base of Bokuto’s skull. Then he hummed and nodded excitedly. “It _is_ soft.”

Bokuto smiled and glanced over at Suga, who was just shaking his head and grinning.

Akaashi moved suddenly, swinging a leg over Bokuto’s crossed ones and settling on his lap. Bokuto sputtered and leaned back a little, but the hands in his hair prevented him from going very far. Then Akaashi pulled his hands from Bokuto’s head and pressed them against his cheeks, smushing Bokuto’s face. Bokuto only muttered a surprised _Oh_ and laughed nervously. 

“Bokuto, you have really pretty eyes,” Akaashi mumbled, staring intently. He didn’t even blink, but Bokuto blinked rapidly. “They’re like, like…honey. Or gold. I don’t know, but they’re pretty.”

“Thanks Akaashi,” Bokuto replied through his slightly smushed lips. He was blushing furiously, but he was also laughing.

Akaashi was so far gone that he clearly had no inhibitions left, giggling madly. Suga scrambled up from where he was sitting to tug his friend off Bokuto’s lap. Akaashi went with him easily, giggling at Suga’s arms tucked under his armpits. Suga hoisted Akaashi up against him and wrapped an arm around his waist, patting Akaashi’s head and giving Bokuto an apologetic smile. 

“So sorry,” Suga whispered, “he gets a little clingy when he’s drunk.” He glanced down at Akaashi. “I think it’s time to go home, okay?”

Akaashi nodded slowly and draped his arms around Suga’s neck. He mumbled something incoherent against Suga’s skin, then giggled again. Suga smiled and patted his head again, readjusting his grip on Akaashi’s waist. He turned to tell Oikawa they were going home, and Iwaizumi assured him that he’d make sure Oikawa got home safely. Suga started to help Akaashi gain his footing to start walking, but Akaashi suddenly straightened and patted his hands harshly against Suga’s chest. 

“Wait wait wait wait wait,” he slurred, patting Suga’s chest with each word. He spun on his feet, stumbling, then dropped back to his knees on the blanket. Bokuto eyed him with a bemused smile as Akaashi dug around in his pockets. He finally produced his phone and fumbled with unlocking it and handing it to Bokuto. “Can I have your phone number?”

Bokuto took the phone and typed in his name and number. He handed it back to Akaashi with a smile. “I even sent myself a text so I have yours. I figured that’s better than you trying to type your number out.”

Akaashi nodded vigorously as Suga hefted him up into his arms again. “Okay, thanks Bokuto! Text me, okay?”

Bokuto nodded and waved to him, still smiling from ear to ear. “Okay, go home and get some rest.”

Akaashi smiled. “Okay, text me though. Bye!” he waved his hand about rapidly until Suga pulled it down, dragging him out of the sand and onto the sidewalk. 

Suga dug Akaashi’s house key out of Akaashi’s pocket and let them into his house. He helped the stumbling and giggling Akaashi through the door, kicking off their sand caked sandals and shushing him. He began to coax Akaashi up the steps to his bedroom. 

“Suga, Bokuto has such nice hair,” Akaashi cooed as he climbed with heavy footsteps. Suga only nodded. “And his eyes are so pretty. They’re so pretty. They’re like those amber things that the scientists found the mosquitoes in in Jurassic Park.”

Suga chuckled. “Is that so?”

“Mhm. Suga, I wanna write poetry about those eyes.”

“Okay, ‘Kaash. How about we get you to bed first?”

They made it to the top of the steps and Suga continued to lead Akaashi down the hall. Akaashi let Suga pull him by the wrist, but he slowed his steps and stopped in front of the door across the hall from his own bedroom. He reached up and ran his fingertips over the smooth wood, staring at the closed door with a frown. Suga paused and watched him for a moment, noticing how Akaashi’s eyes seemed to glaze over even more than they already were. After a few seconds, Akaashi dropped his hand from the door and turned to Suga, all his previous giddiness gone. 

“Suga, I’m tired,” he whispered, his voice almost too quiet to hear. 

Suga nodded and pulled on Akaashi’s wrist gently, taking him into his room. Akaashi collapsed face down on his bed and promptly began to drift off to sleep. Suga wrestled Akaashi onto his side for a second so he could wiggle the comforter out from underneath him, then covered Akaashi up and patted his head lovingly as the other boy completely lost consciousness.

______________________

The next morning, Akaashi awoke slowly, running his tongue along the inside of his mouth with some difficulty. It felt like he had cotton stuffed in his cheeks, and he sat up from his pillow to grope around on his nightstand for a bottle of water. He finally found one, taking a few gulps of it and praying it would help quell the pounding headache that had made its home behind his eyes.

He glanced over at the mound under the blankets beside him, and he saw Suga’s characteristic silver hair splayed out on the pillow. Akaashi sighed and flopped over on his side, picking up his phone and squinting at the screen to see the time. It was already almost noon.

He also noticed a message notification, and he swiped his thumb across the screen to open it. He immediately smiled when he saw the contact name, and he smiled even more when he read the message. 

_[Bokuto] Hey, hey, Akaashi!! I hope you don’t feel like absolute garbage in the morning. Drink lots of water! I had fun hanging out with you tonight. Thanks for making me feel welcome!!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS MY FRIEND [@blingbling](https://blingbling182.tumblr.com/) ON TUMBLR DREW ART FOR MY FIC AND IM CRYING IM SO HAPPY AND SO IN LOVE WITH IT 
> 
> SO GO [LOOK AT IT](https://blingbling182.tumblr.com/post/627076044620546048) RN AND TELL THEM HOW AMAZING IT IS BECAUSE ITS AMAZING AND THEY MADE MY FANFIC WRITER DREAMS COME TRUE K THANKS BYE


	4. Chapter 4

Bokuto welcomed the cool rush of air that blew past his face as he pushed the door to _Momo’s_ open. Kuroo was perched behind the counter, resting his arms on the sneeze guard that covered the ice cream. He was scrolling through his phone, but he glanced up when he heard the little bell on the door jingle. His face split into a grin when he saw Bokuto.

“Hey Bo! Are you excited for your first night?” he asked, slipping his phone in his pocket. 

Bokuto nodded, but he couldn’t help but feel nervous. He smiled anyway.

Kuroo picked up on it and gave Bokuto a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “Honestly, you’ll do fine. It’s pretty straightforward, and the customers hardly care about anything. You’ll never get a customer like that one lady you always tell me about at the café.”

Bokuto shuddered. “The caramel crunch lady.”

Aimi popped her head around the corner and smiled warmly. “Koutarou! I thought I heard your voice! Give me just a second to finish some paperwork and then I’ll be out. Tetsu, are you okay staying just a few extra minutes?”

“Yes ma’am,” Kuroo responded, giving her a salute. 

Aimi disappeared behind the wall again, and Kuroo ushered Bokuto behind the counter. He pulled open a closet door where some brightly colored aprons hung on a hook. He grabbed a coral colored one and draped it over Bokuto’s neck, then spun Bokuto around and tied it around his waist. 

“Your only uniform requirement is to wear one of these aprons when you’re behind the counter. I think you look nice in this color,” Kuroo said, grinning. 

Bokuto tugged slightly on the apron, smiling at its bright color. He noticed that the front had some scribbles on it, done in various colors of markers, and the scribbles were all childlike. He ran his finger over one near the right side of his chest: a little sun with a smiley face. 

“My son and daughter used to color on those aprons when they were little.” Bokuto looked up at Aimi’s voice, finding her leaning against the back counter and smiling at him softly. “Those aprons are a little old, but they’re in great shape, and I can’t bring myself to replace them.”

“I like them a lot,” Bokuto replied, smiling back at her. She really did remind him of his own mother. 

Aimi turned to Kuroo. “You’re free to go, Tetsu. Thanks so much for today, I’ll see you Wednesday.”

“Not a problem, Aimi,” Kuroo replied. He hung his own bright yellow apron on the hook and gave Bokuto a small wave as he walked to the other side of the counter. “I can’t wait to hear all about it tonight, Bo. Be nice to him, Aimi!”

Kuroo left the shop and sprinted off down the sidewalk. Bokuto watched him go, feeling a little tug of nervousness in his lower belly. This was the first stretch of time he would be spending in the town without Kuroo by his side. He’d spent the first half of the day with Kenma, watching movies and playing the occasional video game, but that was different. He wasn’t one to rely too heavily on his friends, but that was in Tokyo, where he was familiar and knew his surroundings and the people. This place was all new.

“Don’t be nervous. When I said I would be training you tonight, I mostly meant I would handle customers and you would watch and run the register,” Aimi assured, noting his anxious demeanor. 

Bokuto gave her a soft smile and let his shoulders relax. “Thank you. I’m not usually so nervous. I guess I just want to make sure I do well since you know Kuroo and I don’t want him to look bad for suggesting you give me this job.”

Aimi laughed and shook her head. “Don’t worry your little head about that, Koutarou. Short of literally stealing from me, I don’t think you could ever mess up that badly here. I mean, you’re scooping ice cream and making the occasional milkshake or sundae. Plus these people don’t care what it looks like as long as it tastes good.”

Her words, despite not being inherently comforting, soothed Bokuto’s nerves completely. He listened intently to Aimi’s soft, even voice as she explained how the register system worked and showed him how to ring in orders. She pointed out each flavor, organized alphabetically, and showed him the special flavors that were for people who wanted dairy-free ice cream.

Customers trickled in, only a few at a time, and Bokuto watched her take their orders and chat pleasantly with them. A few customers had specialty orders, and Aimi used those opportunities to show Bokuto how to make them. She had been telling the truth when she’d said people didn’t care what the treats looked like; twice she made a sundae and did the steps out of order, which Bokuto noted, and Aimi laughed and told him it only mattered that he actually have the toppings there, not how they go on. 

An hour and a half ticked by, and Bokuto found himself truly enjoying his new summer job and the time he was spending with Aimi. He knew that she had other employees – apparently Kuroo usually worked with Suga, and she had employees that worked the days he didn’t – but the person who typically worked his shift was off for the night so Aimi could train Bokuto.

Bokuto was tracing his fingers over the doodles on his apron when the bell at the door chimed. He looked up from the register, and immediately his stomach flip-flopped and fell to his feet. 

Akaashi sent Bokuto a soft, small smile as he crossed the room toward the counter. Bokuto’s heart hammered as he watched, admiring how Akaashi’s navy colored shirt brought out the deep blue of his eyes. They hadn’t spoken since the party, just a thank you text from Akaashi the morning after Suga had drug him out of Bokuto’s lap. Bokuto had wondered all day Sunday if he should text Akaashi, but he couldn’t figure out what to say, so he’d opted to just say nothing at all. 

Bokuto was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice Akaashi lift the cut out and come behind the counter. He did notice, however, when Akaashi grabbed an ice cream cone and began scooping some brownie batter ice cream into it. Bokuto watched him with furrowed brows, wholeheartedly confused about what was happening. 

Akaashi finished getting his ice cream and replaced the scoop in the bucket. He rose to his full height and leaned his hip against the back counter, licking his ice cream and watching Bokuto with a curious look. After a minute, he lowered the cone a little bit and blinked. 

“Is there something wrong?” he inquired. 

Bokuto cleared his throat. “You know, it might be different around here, but where I’m from you would stand on that side of the counter—” Bokuto pointed to the dining side, then at himself, “—and I would get your ice cream for you.”

Akaashi licked his ice cream a few more times, staring blankly at Bokuto, then he slowly lifted his hand and pointed to the slightly ajar door to the office, behind which Aimi sat doing paperwork. She could see them, but she hadn’t said anything or even glanced up.

“That’s my mom,” Akaashi stated. 

If it was possible for someone’s face to burst into flames, Bokuto was positive that it had just happened to him. He glanced between Aimi and Akaashi, suddenly hyperaware of the similarities in their appearance. Akaashi had the same ocean-deep eyes as Aimi, the same dark curls, the same high cheek bones and the same narrow nose.

Bokuto groaned and tugged at the roots of his hair, pulling some strands free from their place to fall around his temples. “Oh my god, I’m just going to quit now.”

Akaashi choked on the bite of ice cream he had just taken as he laughed. “Bokuto-san, it’s fine. There was no way you could have known. My mom goes by her first name, so I’m sure you would have never made the connection on your own.”

Aimi glanced up from her paperwork. “Keiji, if you’re going to be behind the counter, put an apron on.”

Akaashi crossed the floor and grabbed a light blue apron from the hook, throwing it around his neck. He didn’t even bother to tie it. 

“And keep in mind that you only get two free cones. After that you pay,” Aimi continued, pointing a stern finger at him. 

“I know, I know,” Akaashi replied. He spun on his heel to turn back to Bokuto and continued eating. He had made it to the cone, and he took a small bite. “Do you like the job so far?”

Bokuto’s face still felt like it was burning up, but neither Akaashi nor his mother seemed to miss a beat. He took that as a good sign and let himself relax a bit. “I am. It’s fun.”

Akaashi nodded. “Yeah, I love it here. I used to come hang out here with my mom when I was a kid. Those doodles are mine. That apron was my favorite because I really like the color.”

Bokuto glanced down at the little sun doodle with a smiley face. He could only imagine a small, baby faced Akaashi sitting on the floor in his mother’s office, coloring little pictures on brightly colored aprons as he spent his summer days with her. 

“That’s so cute,” he whispered, mostly to himself. Akaashi heard him though, and he blushed slightly and looked away. 

Akaashi hung around as Aimi continued training Bokuto, getting more ice cream cones when customers weren’t in the shop. He sometimes wandered into the walk-in freezer and would come out with frozen pieces of candy that went into some specialty items, and Aimi would chastise him for eating the candy. Her words never had any heat in them, though. 

Aimi went back in the office while customers weren’t in the store. Akaashi was sitting up on the back counter, munching on yet another ice cream cone. 

“Keiji, how many is that?” Aimi asked. 

Akaashi pursed his lips and swung his legs as he thought. He took another bite of the cone. “Five.”

Aimi rolled her eyes and sighed. “No more, Keiji. I’m taking the three out of your next pay.”

“That’s fine, that money would have gone to ice cream anyway.”

“Also, I gave you tonight off so I could train Koutarou. If you’re going to be here anyway, I could use the time to do paperwork. How about you make yourself useful and take over for me?”

Akaashi nodded and hopped off the counter, popping the last bite of cone in his mouth. “Consider it done,” he responded. Then he pulled the door to the office shut and turned to face Bokuto. He stared at him for a second, brought a finger to his lips to silently shush him, then turned and started scooping ice cream into another cone. 

Bokuto snorted. “Aren’t you full? Where do you put it all?”

Akaashi smirked as he licked his sixth cone. “I don’t start feeling full until around ten cones. If I don’t eat cones, I can have like, twelve single scoop bowls before I start to feel full. My limit is fifteen cones though, that’s when I get sick.”

Bokuto winced. “That’s terrifying.”

Akaashi only laughed and shrugged. “I usually don’t go beyond seven in a shift.”

“Do you ever repeat flavors?” So far, Akaashi had gotten a different flavor for each of his cones. 

“Sure, once I get through them all. But it takes a while. We have twenty-six flavors.”

Bokuto hummed. “What’s your favorite?”

Akaashi shook his head. “I don’t have a favorite.”

“You have to have a favorite,” Bokuto challenged. “You basically grew up in this place, there’s no way you don’t have a favorite.”

“I don’t have a favorite,” Akaashi insisted. “I can’t decide, I just love them all.”

Bokuto grinned. “You’re lying.”

“I am not!”

“I’m going to find out what your favorite is.”

“Fine, let me know when you figure it out so I can know, too.”

Bokuto only laughed and turned back to the register. A few more customers came in as the hours ticked by, and soon it was nearing ten and Aimi had come out of the office to help clean up. She showed Bokuto how to take apart the machines and clean them while Akaashi mopped the dining area floor. After Bokuto finished putting the clean machines back together successfully, Aimi asked if she could leave Akaashi to lock up so she could stop by the local store before they closed for the night. The boys bid her farewell, and then they found themselves alone. 

“Does your mom usually work evenings with you?” Bokuto asked. 

Akaashi shook his head. “She usually works during the morning, but in the summer months she only does paperwork for finances. I usually work alone in the off season, but since we’re busier in the summer, she brings someone else on to work with me. Kuroo and Suga have worked the day shift in the summer since they were fifteen.”

Akaashi scooped some ice cream into a clear bowl and used a sample spoon to eat it. Bokuto rolled his eyes, and Akaashi only flung the scoop he’d used at him. “Don’t judge me. And go clean that scoop.”

Bokuto snatched it up off the floor and gave Akaashi a playful glare. “Oh, so as soon as your mom leaves, you become the boss, huh?”

“I have seniority here. Therefore, I have the authority. Clean that scoop, rookie.”

“Ohoho, _rookie?_ Wow,” Bokuto chided, turning to wash the scoop in the sink. He finished, but gathered some water in it, keeping it level as he approached where Akaashi stood. Once he was close enough, Bokuto flung the water in the scoop at Akaashi, splashing him in the face.

Akaashi sputtered around his spoonful of ice cream and gave Bokuto an incredulous look. “How dare you!”

Bokuto shrugged with a grin and dropped the scoop back in the bucket, then ducked when Akaashi chucked the sample spoon at his head. Once ten o’clock rolled around, they put all the ice cream buckets in the freezer and counted the register, leaving the report for Aimi on her desk. Then they hung their aprons on the hook, and Akaashi shut off the lights and locked the door behind them as they exited the store. 

“I can walk with you back to where you’re staying,” Akaashi suggested. 

Bokuto blinked at him a few times, then smiled. “I can walk myself, you know. I know where I’m going.”

Akaashi shrugged. “I just feel like it’s my duty to make sure you get back safely. I mean, it is dark, it’s an unfamiliar place. What if you get lost? Kuroo would kill me.”

“I grew up in Tokyo. This place is cake in comparison. And even if I did get lost, how would you know where to take me? Are you stalking me, Akaashi Keiji?”

Akaashi rolled his eyes. “Come on.”

“So you _are_ stalking me.”

“Shut up.”

They set off down the street, walking at a leisurely pace. The breeze ambled off the surface of the ocean just off in the distance and made its way between the buildings, ruffling Bokuto and Akaashi’s hair and cooling their cheeks. Despite the comfortable coolness of the breeze, the air was still warm and hung around their shoulders like a light sweater. 

Small groups of people were wandering down the sidewalks, chatting idly amongst themselves as they made their ways home or to the beach. The other shops that lined the streets were closing as well, shutting off their lights and locking up doors. 

“Some nights Oikawa and Suga will come get me and we’ll go down to the beach to play some volleyball. The courts aren’t usually as full on weeknights,” Akaashi commented as they rounded the corner and the beach came into sight. As if he had predicted it, a few people were tossing a volleyball back and forth in a sand pit, and a few other groups were scattered along the beach. They could see a few small fires, and music could be heard in the distance. 

“Is it always like this?” Bokuto asked, pausing to watch. 

“It’s pretty quiet in the winter, only locals,” Akaashi replied. He stood next to Bokuto and watched him instead of the people on the beach. “But otherwise, yeah. There’s always people around.”

“It’s different than how there are people in the city,” Bokuto mumbled. His brain was flooded with the cacophony of noises that came with the cityscape, and he could almost hear the distant honking of horns and people calling to each other. It was normal white noise for him while he did homework or watched movies with Kuroo and Kenma. Those familiar noises faded away to the background and were replaced by the constant push and pull of the ocean. Even in the dark, Bokuto could almost see the way the waves broke on the shore and against the pier; he could picture the water crawling up the sand, then retreating hurriedly back into the familiar arms of the waves. 

“Do you like living in the city, Bokuto-san?” 

Bokuto turned his attention to Akaashi, and he found the other boy staring at him with those dark, deep eyes. “I’ve never known anything else.”

Akaashi hummed and turned his gaze to the dark ocean for a fleeting second, then tipped his head to encourage Bokuto to keep walking. Bokuto did, and Akaashi followed. They walked in silence for a few minutes, but silence wasn’t something Bokuto liked all that much, so he felt the need to fill the space between them with some kind of noise. 

“I’m guessing you’re feeling better after Saturday night?” he asked, sticking his hands in his back pockets as he walked. 

Akaashi chuckled. “Uh, yeah. Yesterday was brutal, but I’m fine. I’m sorry if I did anything weird. Suga told me that I got, um…clingy.”

Bokuto smiled. “It’s fine. I thought it was funny.” _It was cute._

“You’re on the same shift rotation as Kuroo and Suga, right? So you work again Wednesday?”

“Yup.”

“Any plans for tomorrow?”

Bokuto thought about it for a second, then shrugged. “Nothing really. Kuroo, Kenma, and I talked about going to the beach for a while. But that’s it.”

Akaashi nodded slowly. Silence fell between them again, but this time it felt more natural. Bokuto was used to being the one who carried conversations; he was even the more talkative one between him and Kuroo. He usually got anxious with silence because it made him feel like the person he was talking to was bored or annoyed with him. Akaashi’s silence was different, though; it made Bokuto feel comfortable. 

They made it to the small vacation home Bokuto was residing in, lingering for a minute at the door. 

“I meant what I said in my text,” Bokuto said suddenly. Akaashi gave him a slightly confused look. “About making me feel welcome. I mean, everyone did, but still. Thanks.”

Akaashi held his hands behind his back and squeezed the tips of his fingers between his index finger and thumb. “Of course. You fit right in, and you’re very easy to talk to Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto smiled shyly. “You know, I’ve been told that before.”

Akaashi gave Bokuto a sweet smile. “That’s because it’s true. Have a good night. I’ll see you around.”

“Goodnight Akaashi.” Bokuto gave him a wave and then walked through the front door of his temporary home. He found Kenma curled up on the couch, tapping away at his phone, and Kuroo frantically spinning around to plop onto the cushion and look like he hadn’t just been kneeling on the couch looking out the window. Bokuto paused as he pushed the door shut and narrowed his eyes at Kuroo. 

“Were you just _spying_ on me through the window?”

Kuroo put his hands up defensively. “I would never!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo was just making sure his best friend got home safely. Right? Right.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I give you: sand volleyball
> 
> Also, the chapters for this fic went up. It's looking like it'll be more like 12 chapters than 10. So, yay?

Water splashed against Akaashi’s shins as he jogged through the surf. The spray was cold, the ocean still chilly despite it being the height of summer. Akaashi supposed the storms that had come through in the spring hadn’t done much for allowing the water to warm up. He knew it would be hot enough soon, though, for no one to care how cold the ocean was. 

Sweat trailed down Akaashi’s temples and the back of his neck, dripping off the tips of his hair and rolling down his back. He welcomed the cold spray on his shins and the breeze that flew off the surface of the water and caressed his heated cheeks; it served well to cool him off as he trekked through the wet sand. He picked up his pace a bit as the pier came into view, eager to complete his jog. When he licked his lips they tasted of salt, and he wasn’t sure if it was from sweat or from the sea air. 

When he finally reached the pier, he doubled over and placed his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. Running in the sand was notably more difficult than running on the sidewalks, which was why he preferred it. It was great resistance training, the sand shifting and absorbing his footfalls as he ran, preventing him from easily springing forward on the balls of his feet. He supposed he cheated a little, always running where the ocean crept up the shoreline and soaked the sand thoroughly. It was certainly easier to run on the packed, wet sand than on the loose sand just a few feet up, but the resistance was still there. 

Akaashi took a few minutes to steady his breathing, then plopped down in the sand and let the water wash around his ankles. It was still high tide, so the water was running up the sand with enthusiasm, fumbling and hiccuping as it tumbled in on itself like an uncoordinated puppy chasing a ball in the park. It raced back down the sand with as much zeal, returning home to its mother waves, which welcomed it home warmly. 

Akaashi cupped his hands in front of his ankles as the water raced toward him again, letting some of it gather in his palms. Before it could be washed away, he brought his palms to his face and splashed his cheeks, reveling in the feeling of cool water on his still heated face. His lips were even saltier now, and he licked it away with a hum a familiar satisfaction. He could never explain quite how much he loved ice cream, only because he could never quite explain how much he loved the taste of sea salt. He spent his mornings and afternoons saturating his taste buds with salt and sea, then spent his evenings balancing that out with the cold sweetness of ice cream. 

He’d tried to explain it once to Suga and Oikawa, and neither had shown any signs of understanding. At least Suga had tried, though. 

Akaashi rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands, scrubbing away the saltwater just in time for the sun to burst over the horizon. The morning sky had been shifting from its milky blue and soft pinks into deeper and deeper oranges for a while now, but that transition was nothing compared to the sun’s grand entrance. The sky exploded in bright oranges and yellows as the star rose, and it immediately warmed the air. The distant, towering clouds were immediately tinged with bright pinks and reds. The colors rose into the soft blue of the fading night sky, playfully rolling together to blur the lines between night and day, and the sun steadily rose to its appointed place. 

Akaashi smiled softly as he watched the event unfold. He’d come to see the sunrise at the pier every morning since his eighteenth birthday; it was his quiet time to spend with the ocean. It had taken him a long time to trust the water again, but it had come when he’d gone for a run at daybreak on his birthday. The sun had burst over the horizon that day like Oikawa bursts into rooms, leaving no opportunity to argue its majesty and grace. It had taken Akaashi’s breath away. He hadn’t felt so low after that, like the ocean was apologizing and giving him a birthday gift. He had welcomed it with open arms. 

Satisfied, Akaashi rose to his feet and brushed the wet sand off his legs. Then he turned and wandered up the beach, passing some vacationers who had also come to witness the sunrise, and approaching the lockers situated near the pier. He found his, unlocked it, and pulled out his bag, heading over to the showers. After he had thoroughly rinsed off, he changed into nicer clothes and stuffed his exercise gear into his bag. Then he ambled down the street toward town to meet Oikawa and Suga at their usual spot for breakfast.

Oikawa deflated as soon as he saw Akaashi’s face twist at his suggestion. He sat his coffee on the table and sighed. “It’s okay, Aka-chan. We can do something else.”

Akaashi twisted his fingers under the table, staring at his own coffee and frowning. He wished the creamy brown liquid could do more than wake him up; he wished it could give him the courage to sit with Suga and Oikawa in the sand and watch Iwaizumi surf like they had for years. He knew this summer would be different, but he hadn’t anticipated feeling like he might throw up every time Oikawa even whispered something about their previously favorite pastime. 

Suga sipped his tea once, twice, then sat it gingerly on the iron table. He straightened in his chair and brought a hand up to scratch at the hair on the back of his head. “We aren’t trying to push you, Akaashi. You know that, right?”

Akaashi snapped his gaze up and nodded furiously at his best friends. “I know! I swear I’m trying. I’m sorry, Oikawa. I know how much you like to watch Iwaizumi.” He hung his head slightly, nibbling on the inside of the bottom of his lip. 

Oikawa tilted his head slightly and the corners of his lips turned up just slightly in a sweet smile. “Aka-chan, do not apologize. Honestly, I’m sorry I keep bringing it up. I guess it’s a force of habit.”

Akaashi looked at Oikawa and returned his soft smile. “It’s okay. If you want to go without me, it’s fine. I can find something else to do.”

Suga and Oikawa shook their heads at the same time. 

“No chance,” Suga insisted. 

Akaashi opened his mouth to insist back, then stopped. He remembered suddenly that Bokuto had mentioned being at the beach with Kuroo and Kenma today, and all at once Akaashi was gripped with the desire to go to the beach himself. Except, he had no intention of watching Iwaizumi surf. “Actually,” he said slowly, “let’s go. Oikawa, I’m totally cool with you going to watch Iwaizumi. I’ll hang out with Suga or find a group of people playing volleyball or something.”

Oikawa frowned slightly, but he couldn’t adequately hide the way his eyes lit up when Akaashi said he didn’t care about Oikawa going off to watch Iwaizumi. “Are you sure, Aka-chan?”

“Totally sure.” Akaashi stood from his chair and grabbed his coffee, already ready to go. “I want to go to the beach. Come on.”

Oikawa and Suga exchanged slightly confused glances at Akaashi’s sudden change of heart, but shrugged and stood, following their friend, who was promptly bouncing excitedly down the street toward the beach. 

When they arrived just a few short minutes later, they found a sea of colorful umbrellas and beach towels scattered throughout the sand. People were milling about, laughing with their friends and watching their children build sandcastles. Some people were lounging in chairs, others on their towels and blankets, soaking in the sun and enjoying the warmth of the day. Akaashi observed quietly, trying to burn into his memory the way the sun highlighted the bright yellows and blues and greens, how the beach balls looked as they floated through the air on the breeze, what the collection of voices sounded like against a background of ebbing and flowing waves. 

He also scanned the crowd for three distinct hairstyles. He had no way of knowing where they might be, or if they were even at the beach yet, but he looked nonetheless. Oikawa scampered off through the sand toward the pier, eyes locked on the small points floating out past the pier in the open water. Akaashi watched them for a moment himself, pretty sure he could pick out which floater was Iwaizumi, then looked away as a wave began to swell and the surfers hopped up on their boards. He continued to scan the crowd, but the combination of many bodies, constant movement, and bright colors reflecting the sun made it difficult to locate anyone. 

“Are you looking for something?” Suga asked, leaning forward to insert himself into Akaashi’s line of vision. He had an eyebrow quirked, perplexed by his friend’s uncharacteristic behavior. 

Akaashi poked his head around Suga’s and continued to look but frowned when he didn’t find what he was looking for. “Um, kind of. Let’s walk.” He grabbed Suga’s wrist and pulled him along, opting to walk up and down the sand until he found them. He supposed he could just text Bokuto (like a normal person), but he didn’t want to make it seem like he was actively looking for him (even though he was).

He tugged Suga toward the sand volleyball pits, scanning the crowd as he walked. Suga strolled along willingly, closing his eyes against the breeze and trusting Akaashi to keep him safe as they walked. Finally, Akaashi spied a bright red umbrella stuck in the sand near a volleyball pit, and underneath it he caught a glimpse of golden colored hair with dark roots. Next to the umbrella were two towels and a large blanket. Akaashi saw wildly unruly black hair, and next to it, salt and pepper hair, slicked back stylishly. Akaashi grinned like a child. 

He pulled Suga along with more insistence, causing his friend to pop his eyes open abruptly and squeak in surprise. “Akaashi! Where are we going?”

Akaashi bounded down the sand, pausing only to kick his sandals off and pick them up. He hated how the loose sand gathered in his shoes, and it was much easier and faster to just walk barefoot. Suga did the same, then sprinted after him, finally noticing the group they were approaching. 

Kenma glanced up from under the edge of the umbrella, his golden, catlike eyes falling on Akaashi immediately, before waving and ducking his head back into the shade. He was tapping away on his phone, likely playing some game, but he stuck a foot out from under his shady place and poked Kuroo with a toe. 

Kuroo cracked one eye open lazily. He was laying sprawled out on the blanket, soaking in the sun, and he lifted his head to see what Kenma wanted. He noticed their companions immediately, sitting up and grinning widely. 

“Well, well, well,” he chimed, “what a coincidence meeting you two here.”

Next to him, Bokuto turned his head to its side and shaded his eyes with his hand, opening one eye to squint at who Kuroo was talking to. When he saw Akaashi and Suga, he sat up and leaned around Kuroo, smiling warmly at them both and waving. Suga returned the smile and wave. Akaashi did as well, but his wave was smaller, and his smile was slightly lopsided as he chewed on the corner of his lip. 

“We saw you from the sidewalk and thought we would come say hi,” Akaashi said, shrugging one shoulder like it had certainly been a coincidence. 

Suga side-eyed him and quirked an eyebrow. “You literally dragged me—”

Akaashi elbowed him in the side harshly, effectively shutting him up. Kuroo cackled. 

“Where’s your third musketeer?” Kuroo inquired, glancing around like Oikawa might pop out at any moment. 

“He’s watching Iwaizumi,” Suga replied, and Kuroo hummed like he should have known that. 

Akaashi left Suga’s side and rounded the umbrella and Kuroo to plop down on the corner of the blanket next to Bokuto. “Hi.” He took a moment to appreciate the taut, lean muscles that stretched across Bokuto’s back, shoulders, and chest. He also spied some faded freckles spattered across Bokuto’s shoulders. _Like constellations._

Bokuto leaned back on his hands and smiled again, but this smile was much toothier and alluring. “Hey, hey.”

“I know you mentioned you might be here today.” Akaashi waved his hand around flippantly as he spoke. “How convenient that I saw you guys, right?”

Bokuto laughed softly and nodded. “For sure.”

Kuroo leaned around Bokuto and scrunched his nose up at Akaashi. “Who said you could sit with us? Get your own beach blanket.”

Akaashi actually stuck his tongue out at Kuroo, which was admittedly one of the most immature things he’d ever done. Bokuto flopped back onto the blanket and laughed heartily, earning a sweet chuckle from Akaashi. Kuroo rolled his eyes but smiled, scooting over to make room for Suga to sit with them. 

They chatted for a while, lounging in the sun and embracing its warmth, until Oikawa sauntered up to them with a damp Iwaizumi in tow. Iwaizumi carried his surfboard under his arm, and sand was sticking to his wetsuit pants. Oikawa dropped to his knees behind Akaashi and wrapped his arms around the boy’s shoulders, resting his chin on his forearm and leaning his temple against Akaashi’s. 

“How nice to see you all here,” he cooed, winking at Kuroo. Kuroo only sneered back playfully. “Bo-chan, how’s it going? Are you loving the beach life?”

Bokuto chuckled at Oikawa’s already affectionate nickname for him, then nodded. “I don’t know if I’ll ever go back to the city.”

Oikawa rolled off Akaashi’s shoulders and into the sand, thrusting his fists up in the air with a triumphant yell. “Yes! Another convert!” 

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and grinned, toeing Oikawa’s hair with his sandy foot. Oikawa grumbled about sand getting in his hair and grabbed Iwaizumi’s ankle, shaking it lightly. Iwaizumi only laughed and knelt to grab a handful of sand and sprinkle it all over his boyfriend’s face.

After Oikawa finished scolding Iwaizumi for his actions, which only ended with more sand in his hair and down his shorts, he asked if anyone was up for some sand volleyball. He was met with enthusiastic affirmations. Kenma stayed behind with their things, able to watch them play from his spot under the umbrella, and the group found an empty pit nearby. 

However, a few minutes later Bokuto and Akaashi were sitting on the sidelines. Bokuto was pouting heavily, and Akaashi was giving Oikawa deadly glares. 

“You’re younger, so we get to play first,” Oikawa had told Akaashi, indicating himself, Iwaizumi, Kuroo, and Suga. 

Bokuto had stomped his foot indignantly at Kuroo. “I’m older than you, Kuroo!”

Kuroo had shrugged apologetically and draped an arm over Suga’s shoulders. “I always play my first game of the summer with Suga, Bo. It’s nothing against you. You two can play the next round.”

So Bokuto and Akaashi had found themselves left out, sitting in the sand and watching Iwaizumi and Oikawa play against Suga and Kuroo. Bokuto huffed and crossed his arms. 

“This is so unfair. I want to play. Plus, who willingly plays two on two?”

Akaashi sighed and let some sand run through his fingers. “Actually, sand volleyball is traditionally played two on two, like in the Olympics.”

Bokuto looked over and him. “I knew they did that in the Olympics, but I guess I kind of just thought that was because it’s, you know, the Olympics. Two on two is really hard.”

“I guess that’s why the Olympic sand volleyball players are really good.” Akaashi glanced over at an empty pit nearby. “Hey, that one is open. How about I toss to you? That way you can get used to the sand before we actually play.”

Bokuto leapt to his feet and was halfway to the pit before Akaashi even realized what had happened. He followed with a laugh, meeting Bokuto at the pit. Soon, Akaashi was setting the ball off his fingertips, sending it in a graceful arch toward Bokuto, who jumped up and met the ball in the air. He hit it down with a definitive smack, watching as it was absorbed by the sand on the other side of the pit and then bounced up slightly, rolling a few feet before it stopped.

Bokuto landed in the sand with a thump and looked at his hand, eyes wide. “Whoa! That was totally different from a normal spike! The ball felt so much softer!” He mimicked smacking the ball down. “And it didn’t really bounce, just landed in the sand!”

Akaashi laughed. “It’s a bit different than playing in a gym, huh?” Bokuto nodded, watching Akaashi with bright eyes that rivaled the sun. Akaashi ducked under the net to retrieve the ball, explaining why it felt different as he gathered it. “Beach volleyballs are bigger, softer, and lighter than volleyballs used for indoor games. It’s almost always windy at the beach, so the really good players can use the weather to their advantage. Since the ball is so light, the wind can carry it and sometimes it’ll just float away.”

“That’s so cool!” Bokuto exclaimed, bouncing on his heels. “Toss to me again, Akaashi!”

Akaashi complied, and the two of them spent the next half hour tossing and spiking the volleyball together. Bokuto had to adjust to jumping in the sand, and a few times the wind took the toss and he missed, but he caught on quickly. After a particularly powerful spike that sent the ball bouncing out of the pit, Akaashi marveled at Bokuto. 

“You’re honestly so good at this, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said, and he meant it. “I’ve never seen someone adjust to playing in the sand so quickly. You’ll definitely make it on the national team.”

Bokuto beamed, and Akaashi thought he might be blinded by just how brightly Bokuto shone. Their attention was brought to their friends on the other court, who were bickering over whether sand or indoor volleyball was better. 

“You basically _hold_ the ball when you set, Oikawa!” Kuroo accused, pointing a finger at the smirking boy. “That’s cheating.”

“Beach volleyballs are much softer, Kuroo,” Oikawa sneered. “It’s not my fault you don’t have the finesse needed to handle them.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes and planted his hands on his hips. “Please! I bet if we played three on three, Bo, Kenma and I would wipe the floor with you!”

Oikawa crossed his arms and smirked. “Okay, prove it.”

“I’m not playing!” Kenma barked from under the umbrella. Kuroo groaned and begged, but Kenma refused. “I came here to vacation, not participate in your goofy arguments that have no winners.”

Akaashi and Bokuto made their way back over. “I play indoor, too,” Akaashi said to Kuroo. “I can be on your team.”

Kuroo hollered with excitement and practically shoved Suga over to Oikawa’s side. He clapped Akaashi on the shoulder. “See, Oikawa? I told you I would steal your kohai one of these days.”

Oikawa feigned offense. “Aka-chan, you traitor.”

They began their three on three game, and it quickly became apparent that Oikawa and Akaashi were almost evenly matched in ability. However, Akaashi had Kuroo and Bokuto on his side, both of whom were more seasoned in indoor games than the three on the opposite side of the pit. This slight difference quickly gave Akaashi’s team an edge, and they continuously scored points between Bokuto’s powerful spikes and Kuroo’s expert blocking skills. Soon, Akaashi, Bokuto, and Kuroo took both sets and were declared the winners. Oikawa begrudgingly accepted defeat. 

“You only won because you had my dear Aka-chan on your side,” Oikawa declared, draping an arm over Akaashi’s shoulders.

Akaashi wiggled out from underneath his friend and smirked. “Don’t kid yourself, Oikawa; Bokuto-san and Kuroo-san wiped the floor with you.” He sauntered away, joining Kenma under the umbrella, and leaving Oikawa at the mercy of his friend’s teasing laughter.

______________________

Akaashi giggled as Bokuto reached for his toes _again_ after their latest customers left the parlor.

“Calves sore?” 

Bokuto groaned. “They’re killing me!” He rubbed his sore muscles tenderly, wincing as he rolled his knuckles across them.

Akaashi nibbled on his ice cream cone, which he had hidden in the cooler when the customers had walked in. “It’s definitely harder to run around in that sand. You’ll get used to it though. It’s great for resistance training and stamina building; I’m sure that would be helpful for you if you get on the national team.”

Bokuto nodded as he stood back up, readjusting his coral apron. He knew he didn’t have to wear the same one each shift, but he liked knowing that this one was Akaashi’s favorite when he’d been a child. “Kenma actually convinced me to come on this vacation by telling me that.”

“Gods bless Kenma.”

Bokuto breathed out a laugh and turned away from Akaashi to keep him from seeing the blush creeping across his cheeks. Bokuto had spent almost every morning at the beach with Akaashi and his friends. Kenma and Kuroo always joined, Kenma staying on the beach blanket or under the umbrella, and Kuroo playing volleyball in the pit with all of them. Every other evening, Bokuto spent his time at _Momo’s_ with Akaashi, watching him down copious amounts of ice cream and make photo-worthy brownie sundaes. 

Bokuto had started keeping a notebook in his apron pocket. He wrote down the name of every flavor of ice cream, making a tally mark next to it every time Akaashi scooped it into a cone or bowl. Akaashi had made it through all the flavors quickly, so each name had at least one tally. Beyond that, Akaashi had gotten the brownie batter flavor four times, the cotton candy twice, and the peaches and cream seven. Bokuto was beginning to suspect Akaashi preferred the peaches and cream flavor, but he still had some observing to do. 

They closed the parlor together every night they worked, and they quickly developed a system. Akaashi began mopping at nine-thirty, and Bokuto would take the machines apart and wash them. Then, Akaashi would count the drawer and write down the amount five minutes before ten while Bokuto sealed all the ice cream buckets and returned them to the walk-in freezer. They would walk out of the shop by three minutes after ten every night, on the dot. Then, Akaashi would walk with Bokuto back to where he was staying with Kuroo and Kenma. They would walk in comfortable silence, only occasionally chatting and commenting on their days. Akaashi would bid Bokuto a quick farewell, then wander off down the street toward home. 

This night, Akaashi paused before he said goodbye. “Bokuto-san, I have a question for you.”

Bokuto spun on his heel and waited expectantly. 

Akaashi tucked his hands behind his back, fidgeting with his fingers as he spoke. “So, every Saturday morning my dad makes this really big brunch. Suga, Oikawa, and Iwaizumi always come over for it, and um… Well, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come over too?” He didn’t make eye contact with Bokuto as he spoke, worried he was being too forward. Playing volleyball and hanging out at work together were very different from coming over to the house and meeting his family. Not to mention, they had only known each other for a week. 

Bokuto’s face lit up, though, and he bounced excitedly. “Akaashi! I would love to!”

When Akaashi did look at him, Bokuto’s smile was blinding. Akaashi always admired his perfect white teeth. “Great! Um, I’ll text you my address. Oh, also Kuroo and Kenma are invited. They’ve come before, so they know where I live. But I’ll send you my address anyway, just in case.” _Stop talking, Keiji._

Bokuto beamed. “I can’t wait, Akaashi. I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

Akaashi nodded and smiled. “Yes, see you tomorrow, Bokuto-san.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The moment you've all been waiting for has arrived: Akaashi's tragic backstory.

Bokuto slowed to a stop behind Kuroo and Kenma, staring at the home they were steadily approaching with an open mouth. He looked down at his text messages, checking the address Akaashi had sent him, then double checking it against the address listed on the house’s gate. It was correct. 

Kuroo glanced over his shoulder and smirked, spinning around and throwing his hands into the air. “Welcome to the Akaashi home, Bokuto.”

Bokuto took the last few steps forward and stopped in front of the gate. He was still gaping. The home that lay before him was huge, at least compared to what he was used to seeing in Tokyo. The gate opened to a small path that was lined by an expertly trimmed lawn. The grass was so green Bokuto wondered if it was even real. It couldn’t have been, that green was most definitely genetically enhanced or something. Grass was _not_ that color naturally. 

The front door was open, and Bokuto could see clean, white floors even from where he was standing on the sidewalk. The footpath in the yard wound its way around the side of the house and disappeared from view toward the back, and Bokuto heard a splashing sound in the distance that wasn’t the ocean.

Akaashi had texted Bokuto his address when he’d returned home the night prior, also adding that Bokuto should bring swimming shorts if he thought he might want to swim. Kuroo had explained that the Akaashi family, despite living near the ocean, had a pool in their backyard. He’d told Bokuto that Suga, Iwaizumi and Oikawa had held a number of birthday parties at the Akaashi home over the years because of that swimming pool. 

Bokuto stared at Kuroo with wide, wonderstruck eyes. “Akaashi lives _here?_ You didn’t tell me he was rich!”

Kenma chuckled. “We told you they were well off. Come on.” He pushed the gate open and started down the path toward the back. Kuroo followed, beckoning for Bokuto to follow. 

They rounded the side of the house and the pool and patio came into view. Oikawa was floating in the pool already, lazily dragging his arms through the water. Iwaizumi sat on the edge of the pool kicking water lazily, grinning when Oikawa glared at him when he got splashed. A few tables with large umbrellas lined the patio, and Bokuto saw Akaashi and Suga lounging in patio chairs under one of them. Suga noticed them first and waved, and Akaashi looked over and sent them a sweet smile.

Aimi bounced out of the house carrying a tray of fruit, and she set the tray on the table Akaashi and Suga were seated at. She noticed the three newcomers and beckoned them over warmly, hugging them all. “I’m so glad you boys could make it! Kou, welcome, welcome. Make yourself at home. Brunch is almost ready, we’re just finishing the crepes now.”

“Do you need any help?” Kenma asked. Aimi shook her head and insisted they sit and enjoy themselves. Then she disappeared back inside. 

Kuroo plopped into a chair that was in the sun and stretched out like a cat. Kenma drug a chair over into the shade and curled up in it next to Suga, reaching for the tray of fruit and plucking a few grapes off it. Bokuto sat in a chair near Kuroo, feeling strangely out of place; he was used to cramped balconies that hung over city streets, not sprawling backyards and patios the size of his living room. 

Akaashi glanced at him around his chair and pointed to the fruit. “Do you want something?”

Suga smiled as he popped some strawberries in his mouth. “Bokuto, don’t be shy. Aimi means it when she says to make yourself at home.”

Bokuto relaxed a bit then, and the sound of splashing rose from the pool. Oikawa lifted himself out of the water and padded across the patio, dripping the whole way. He grabbed some fruit and then dropped into Kuroo’s lap, earning an _Oof_ and then an annoyed utterance about him being wet and sitting on Kuroo’s dry pants. Iwaizumi joined them and smacked Oikawa lightly on the back of the head, then drug a chair over and situated it next to Kenma in the shade. 

Oikawa flicked some of the water still on his fingertips at Kuroo’s face, then leapt up and scampered away with a giggle when Kuroo lashed out. He skirted the edge of the table and placed himself in Iwaizumi’s lap instead, wrapping his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck and pulling his face against his chest. 

“Iwa-chan, protect me!”

Iwaizumi grunted and shoved himself away from Oikawa, glaring at him and then flicking him in the nose. “Knock it off.” Then he offered Oikawa a grape, slipping it between Oikawa’s lips when he opened his mouth slightly. 

“Stop being gross,” Akaashi groaned, scooting his chair out from under the shade of the umbrella and situating himself next to Bokuto. He offered his hand palm up, revealing an array of fruit. Bokuto took a few grapes and ate them, humming at their sweetness. 

“’Kaashi, your house is _huge,_ ” Bokuto mumbled around his grapes. He glanced around the yard, taking in the colorful plants, the firepit in the corner of the patio, and the lounge chairs situated closer to the pool. 

Akaashi looked around too, like he didn’t live there. He shrugged. “It’s not that big. Not compared to some of the homes around here, at least.”

Bokuto snorted. “I live in a two bedroom apartment on the sixth floor in the middle of Tokyo.”

Akaashi laughed. “Okay, fair enough.”

Aimi reappeared carrying a tray full of crepes, and a man who Akaashi also closely resembled followed her, carrying a bowl of rice and a tray of various breakfast meats. After setting his things down on the table, the man approached Kuroo and ruffled the tall boy’s hair playfully. 

“Tetsu, it’s good to see you!” he boomed. He crossed the patio and gave Kenma a squeeze on the shoulder. “You too, Ken. I’m happy you could make it this year.” Kuroo and Kenma greeted the man warmly, then he turned his attention to Bokuto. “You must be Koutarou. Aimi has told me about you; she’s very impressed with your work ethic. I’m Kaito, Aimi’s husband and Keiji’s father.”

Bokuto flushed and nodded politely. “It’s very nice to meet you. Thank you for having me at your home.”

Kaito smiled. “Of course! Everyone help yourself. I made too much food, as usual.”

Oikawa immediately stood to start serving himself, not a hint of shyness in his demeanor. “No worries! We’re growing boys. Although, I’m surprised that there’s not a whole ice cream bar out here for Kei-chan to fill his crepes with.”

Akaashi pouted. “Mom won’t let me do that anymore.”

“That’s because you ate so much the last time I allowed it that you got sick and threw up for the rest of the day,” Aimi responded, flicking her child in the ear.

They all filled their plates and ate, talking amicably and joking with one another. Bokuto ate so much that he thought he might explode, and he was convinced that he wouldn’t need to eat again for at least two whole days. Once Oikawa and Iwaizumi finished their food, they returned to the pool. Kenma and Suga eventually joined them; Kenma floated on a raft near the corner of the pool while Suga and Oikawa wrestled in the water. 

Kuroo finished his meal and joined them, pulling Kenma around on the raft and shoving Oikawa’s head under the water occasionally. Oikawa would glare at Kuroo because he knew he couldn’t retaliate without the risk of sinking Kenma, and Kuroo would just smirk and continue to tug Kenma along on the raft. Bokuto and Akaashi went to sit at the edge, and Bokuto dipped his feet in the water and leaned back on his hands. 

“Bo, get in this water. Oikawa wants to play chicken and we can totally beat him and Iwaizumi,” Kuroo called. 

Bokuto shook his head and smiled. “If I get in, I’m pretty sure I’ll just sink. I’m so full.”

Kuroo grinned at Kenma, who immediately scrabbled out of the pool and hid behind Bokuto and Akaashi. “I am not playing that ridiculous game, Kuro.”

Suga leapt onto Kuroo’s back and grinned mischievously. “I’ll play.”

The four of them began their game, splashing and causing a ruckus. Bokuto and Akaashi watched with amusement, and Kenma retreated back to the patio and curled up on a chair in the shade. Bokuto closed his eyes and leaned his head back, soaking in the warmth of the sun. He had been nervous about coming to Akaashi’s home, even with Kuroo and Kenma, and especially once he saw the sheer size of the place. That nervousness had melted away, though, after meeting Akaashi’s father and spending time with everyone; he felt welcome and comfortable. 

Bokuto was beginning to get lost in his own thoughts when something warm and wet slid across the back of his hand. He opened his eyes and sat up, pulling his hand to his chest and whipping around to find the source of the foreign feeling. He was greeted by a small, orange and white dog with fluffy fur and pointed ears. Akaashi chuckled and reached over, scooping the dog up and placing it on his crossed legs. The dog wagged its short tail and licked Akaashi’s cheek, then settled itself in his lap more comfortably. 

“This is Momo,” Akaashi said as he ran his hands down the dog’s fur. “She gets excited when there’s new people here.”

Bokuto smiled and extended his hand out palm up, letting Momo sniff it. She licked his hand enthusiastically, and Bokuto laughed softly and raised his hand to pet her head. “Momo? As in… _Momo’s?"_

Akaashi grinned and nodded. “Yeah, as in _Momo’s._ ”

“Is the dog named after the place, or the place named after the dog?”

“The place is named after the dog. That was Mom’s idea.”

The dog hopped off Akaashi’s lap and waddled over to Bokuto, sitting on the patio and tucking herself close to his side. She leaned against him and licked his bare skin, causing Bokuto to squirm a little. He still pet her softly, enjoying the softness of her fur. 

Oikawa had noticed the arrival of the little dog, and he swam over to give her a few pats. She licked the water off his hand. “Aka-chan, you should tell Bo-chan how Momo got her name.” He was smirking. 

Akaashi blushed when Bokuto looked at him expectantly, then smiled. “You really want to know?”

Bokuto nodded. “I’m curious now, you have to tell me.”

“Well,” Akaashi began, “we got Momo when I was little. She was just a puppy, and my parents said I got to name her. Except, I wasn’t a particularly creative child when it came to names.” He paused, took a breath, and smiled again. “I named her Momo because I thought her butt looked like a peach.”

Bokuto and Oikawa burst out in laughter, and Akaashi’s blush deepened. He smiled, though, and joined in with their laughter after a moment. 

______________________

Kuroo toweled himself dry and poked Bokuto in the cheek. Bokuto, who was lounging on the patio, glanced up at him. “Kenma has a live stream in twenty minutes, so I’m going to walk with him back to the house. Do you want to come, or are you staying here?”

Bokuto sat up and shrugged. “I guess I’ll go with you.”

“You can stay,” Akaashi blurted. Then he coughed and looked at some random spot on the patio. “I mean, if you want. Like, you don’t have to leave.”

Kuroo grinned and patted Bokuto on the shoulder. “Go ahead and stay, Bo. I’m probably going to take a nap anyway, so you’ll have more fun here.”

He and Kenma gathered their things and left. Suga, Oikawa, and Iwaizumi were still floating in the pool, throwing water at each other and wrestling whenever someone got too close to another or said something offensive. Akaashi rose from the patio and stretched, then padded toward the house. Bokuto watched him for a moment. 

“I’m going to go see if anything needs cleaned up,” Akaashi explained. 

Bokuto leapt up. “I’ll come help!”

He bounded after Akaashi, entering the home through the kitchen. Akaashi veered toward the sink, and Bokuto took a moment to observe the inside of the gigantic house. The kitchen was fairly large, clean, decorated with bright colors. He could see the living room from where he stood, and it seemed just as welcoming and bright as the kitchen. Akaashi stood at the sink, washing a few dishes and putting them on a towel to dry. A large window was situated over the sink, giving the person who was there a view of the side yard. Small plants were placed on the window, and the sunlight trickling in shone through their leaves and illuminated the sill with cool tones. 

Bokuto helped Akaashi finish the dishes and put some leftovers in the refrigerator. The doors of the appliance were covered in pictures, and he took some time to examine them. 

Many of the pictures had Oikawa and Suga in them, and some even had Iwaizumi. They were from all over the little town: _Momo’s,_ the beach, the pool, even a few places that Bokuto didn’t recognize. There were pictures of Akaashi, Suga, and Oikawa as children, sitting clustered together by the pool, giving the camera toothy grins. Some were of birthday parties, both summer and winter. And there were pictures of Akaashi alone; school pictures and him wearing a school’s volleyball jersey. There were pictures of him at volleyball games with people Bokuto assumed were his past teammates, and pictures of him graduating from high school. There were also pictures of him with his family; in those pictures, he was often standing with his arm linked with a girl’s. 

The girl was in many of the other pictures, too. She resembled Akaashi, with the same blue eyes and dark hair. Her hair was long and curled, like Aimi’s, and her smile was wide and bright, like Kaito’s. She was there with Suga and Oikawa, grinning and laughing with them. She was there with a young Akaashi, leaning on his shoulders or hugging him tightly. They were together in front of _Momo’s,_ holding ice cream comes, wearing oversized, brightly colored aprons and smiling broadly. They were at the beach together, building sandcastles and playing in the shallow surf.

And she was in a picture with Iwaizumi. Her long hair had been braided back, and she and Iwaizumi wore matching wetsuits. She had her arm around his waist, and he had his around hers. They were both smiling, holding surfboards on their other sides. They looked excited and proud.

Bokuto stared at the pictures of her with interest until Akaashi came to stand next to him. He reached up and plucked one of the pictures off the refrigerator – the one of him and the girl in front of the ice cream parlor as children – and stared at it with a blank face. Then, almost as quickly as he had removed it, he replaced it and dropped his hand. 

“That’s my sister, Keiko.” Akaashi spoke quietly.

Bokuto remembered Aimi mentioning that she had a son and a daughter, but he had never really thought about it beyond their conversation about the aprons. “I didn’t realize you had a sister. I haven’t seen her around. Is she at university?” He didn’t see any pictures of her at a high school’s or college’s graduation. 

Akaashi shook his head. “No. She died last year.”

His blood felt like it froze, and Bokuto’s face crumpled with sympathy. He stared at her picture for a moment, then looked at Akaashi. “I’m so sorry.”

Akaashi didn’t say anything. He just stared at her picture, seemingly deep in thought. Bokuto scanned the pictures again. “How old was she?”

“Seventeen.”

Bokuto frowned. “Wait, but you just turned eighteen, right? If she was seventeen, then…” Understanding washed over him, and he looked at Akaashi with wide eyes. “She was your twin?” It made sense, now. The pictures of Akaashi at his own birthday parties always contained Keiko, and they were usually sitting together. They were both smiling at the camera, both opening gifts, both eating cake and opening presents. It also explained why there were no pictures of her at a graduation. 

Akaashi nodded and sighed. Bokuto felt his heart ache for Akaashi; he couldn’t imagine how difficult and painful losing his sister had been. It was hard enough, Bokuto was sure, to lose a sibling anyway. But to lose your twin? That was impossible to fathom. 

“It was an accident,” Akaashi mumbled. 

Bokuto blinked at him. “You don’t have to talk about it, Akaashi.”

“I want to.” He looked at Bokuto with stormy eyes. “If that’s okay?”

Bokuto nodded. “Of course it’s okay.”

Akaashi plucked the picture of his sister and Iwaizumi off the fridge and walked over to the dining room table. Bokuto followed and sat with him. Akaashi set the picture on the table and stared at it for a moment; his face was unreadable. 

“She and Iwaizumi surfed together. She was always in the water, that’s why we have a pool. If we didn’t get one, she would have made us be at the shore every single day. I liked to swim, but I never wanted to go that far into the water.” Akaashi smiled softly. “Iwaizumi was the same as Keiko, though, so our parents got them in surfing lessons. I just stayed on the beach and watched with Suga and Oikawa. Last summer, right at the end of August, we were all at the beach. We were watching Keiko and Iwaizumi surf, just like we always did. Looking back, it probably was a bad idea. The water was rough from some storms that had just passed.”

_Akaashi shivered on the beach blanket and tucked himself closer to Suga. Oikawa had scooted closer to the edge of the water and was watching with rapt attention as Keiko and Iwaizumi floated on their boards beyond the pier._

_“Do they think they’ll get good waves tonight?” Suga asked._

_Suga wrapped an arm around Akaashi’s shoulders. “How are you cold, Keiji? It’s super warm out still.” He gave Akaashi a small shake. “It’s okay. The sun will be totally set soon, and then they’ll have to get out. No surfing in the dark.”_

_Akaashi nodded and snuggled closer to Suga. He couldn’t shake the shivers trembling down his spine despite the warmth of the day. He tucked his knees to his chest and rested his chin on them while he watched. Keiko and Iwaizumi bobbed on the surface of the water, paddling lightly on their boards as the waves lifted and dropped them. None of the waves were big enough to ride, though, so they just let themselves float._

_After a few minutes, the wind picked up and the waves started to grow. A particularly large one began to swell, sucking the water from the shore and gathering it into its fold. Akaashi wondered if he and Suga should scoot up the beach further; this wave might actually reach their blanket. Iwaizumi and Keiko paddled toward the wave, letting their boards get swept up into the swell. They climbed to their feet and balanced on the slick surfaces, crouching on the boards until the swell was big enough. Then they stood fully and let the current of the wave take them, riding it like they were meant to be there._

_Keiko trailed her hand in the water against the swell of the wave, twisting her ankles and hips slightly to keep her balance and zipping through the water. She looked like she was flying, her soaked braids whipping around behind her. She smiled widely, whooping as she followed Iwaizumi down the wave. Akaashi grinned at his sister, feeling warmth spread through his chest._

_Suddenly the wave keeled and crashed abruptly, and Keiko and Iwaizumi wiped out. They tumbled under the weight of the wave, disappearing under the water. A moment passed, and Iwaizumi broke to the surface. He was sputtering and coughing, and he took a moment to collect himself. His board was bobbing in the water next to him, still attached by the tether secured around his ankle. He swam to the shore and pulled himself out of the water, shaking sand out of his hair and detaching his board from himself._

_“Are you okay, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa asked as Iwaizumi plopped into the sand next to him._

_Iwaizumi pushed some hair out of his eyes and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. That wave was a little rough. We should probably call it quits for tonight.”_

_Akaashi watched the surface of the ocean with unblinking eyes. He couldn’t see where Keiko had surfaced. He scanned the shore, looking for her brightly colored board or for her approaching them from way down the beach; it wasn’t uncommon for them to get washed down the shoreline after wiping out. His eyes finally caught the bright yellow of her surfboard as it broke the surface of the water and bobbed a bit on the small waves. He waited for Keiko to follow. And waited. And waited._

_The coldness in his body returned, and he shivered as he jumped to his feet. “Where’s Keiko? Why hasn’t she come up?”_

_Suga, Oikawa, and Iwaizumi snapped their attention to the water. Akaashi ran down to the edge and searched frantically for his sister. Surely she was still attached to her board. Surely._

_Suga ran up beside him and wrapped his arms around him just as Keiko did break the surface. Only she wasn’t gasping for breath as Iwaizumi had; instead, she was floating limply in the water. Oikawa leapt to his feet and grabbed Akaashi too, holding him against his chest and preventing him from diving into the water._

_“Iwaizumi!” Oikawa screamed his boyfriend’s name desperately, pleading evident in his tone. Iwaizumi could do something; Iwaizumi could help Keiko._

_Iwaizumi was already in the water, swimming as fast as he could against the waves. He reached Keiko and pulled her against his chest, swimming with one arm back to the shore._

_Akaashi watched in horror as Iwaizumi dragged his sister up the sand. She dropped into it with a soft thump, completely unmoving. Iwaizumi barked some order at Oikawa, and Oikawa dropped his arms from around Akaashi to pull his phone out of his pocket. Suga was tugging on Akaashi, saying something to him, but Akaashi couldn’t hear. It sounded like the ocean was roaring in his ears, muddling anything anyone was saying to him. He felt like he was underwater, drowning, unable to find oxygen._

_Then Akaashi was on his knees in the sand. Suga was holding him. Oikawa was talking hurriedly into his phone. Iwaizumi was performing CPR on Keiko. Akaashi thought he could hear someone screaming._

Bokuto stared at Akaashi, totally at a loss for words. Akaashi was tugging on his fingers and staring at the picture of his sister and Iwaizumi. After a few seconds of silence, Akaashi looked up at Bokuto and sighed. 

“When she wiped out, I guess the surfboard smacked her in the head. It knocked her unconscious, so she couldn’t fight the waves or swim to the surface,” Akaashi mumbled. “It was a freak accident. No one could have predicted it.”

Bokuto nodded. It was all he could think to do. Akaashi’s face was etched with sadness, and he pressed his lips together and took a shaky breath. 

“Iwaizumi blamed himself for a while, but it wasn’t anyone’s fault,” he said. He leaned back in his chair and sighed, trailing a finger over the picture on the table. 

“Do you believe that for yourself?” Bokuto asked. Akaashi looked up at him and frowned. Bokuto continued: “You don’t blame yourself for it, right?”

Akaashi clenched his jaw, then shook his head slowly. “No, I don’t blame myself. At least, not anymore. I guess I did at first, but there really was nothing that could have been done. It was an accident.”

If he was lying, Bokuto couldn’t tell. “I’m really sorry, Akaashi. I wish I could say something else. I’m sorry.” He paused. “Can I give you a hug?”

Akaashi nodded and opened his arms. Bokuto pulled his chair over next to him and wrapped his arms around him. Akaashi tucked his face into Bokuto’s neck and sighed, relaxing against him. 

“Thank you for telling me about your sister,” Bokuto whispered.

Akaashi nodded against him. “Thank you for listening.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to everyone who comments and leaves kudos. It's really encouraging to hear from you guys. I really appreciate your love, it motivates me to keep writing and posting!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally felt like I had to brush my teeth after writing this chapter.

Bokuto eyed Akaashi playfully. “You know, that’s the fourth time you’ve gotten salted caramel this week. I was beginning to think your favorite flavor was peaches and cream, but I might have to reevaluate.”

Akaashi smiled around the spoon in his mouth. “You’ve been counting?”

Bokuto flashed his notepad with the tally marks, and Akaashi laughed. He reached for it and Bokuto handed it over. Akaashi scanned over the information with an amused look.

“I didn’t realize you were conducting such a scientific study, Bokuto-san.”

“Oh yeah. Kuroo has been helping me compile the data. I’ll have a full spreadsheet for you by the end of break.”

Akaashi smiled and held out a spoonful of ice cream. Bokuto leaned forward and closed his lips around it, looking thoughtful as he let the ice cream melt in his mouth. Then he hummed and shrugged. 

“What? Is that flavor not good enough for you?” Akaashi asked. 

“It’s fine, just not my favorite. I like the birthday cake one the best,” Bokuto replied. 

Akaashi rolled his eyes. “You like birthday cake because it has huge chunks of frosting in it.” 

“What’s your point? At least I can commit.”

“Wow.” Akaashi scrunched his nose at Bokuto and ate another spoonful of ice cream. “That’s the last time I ever share my ice cream with you.”

Bokuto laughed and hoisted himself up onto the back counter. They spent their shifts alone most days now; Aimi trusted that Bokuto had a handle on the job. She also trusted that Bokuto would keep tabs on Akaashi’s ice cream consumption, but that was a bit more difficult. 

Akaashi frowned at his phone and slipped it in his pocket, poking at his ice cream halfheartedly. Bokuto tipped his head. “What’s the matter? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look sad when ice cream is in your face.”

“I keep getting emails from the University of Tokyo,” Akaashi explained. He sat his bowl of ice cream down and crossed his arms, looking troubled. “They’re reminding me that their September entrance exams are coming up soon.”

Bokuto nodded. “Are you going to take them?”

“I don’t know.” Akaashi sighed and waved his hands around in exasperation, then dropped them at his side with a huff. “I should. If I don’t, I’ll have to wait until March and then I’ll be really behind. But…” He trailed off and stared at the floor, scuffing his feet on the tile. 

“But you don’t want to go to university?” Bokuto guessed. 

Akaashi shrugged. “It’s not that. Not really, at least.”

“Then what is it?”

“Bokuto-san, what are you studying at university?”

Bokuto frowned at the sudden change in subject but answered regardless. “I’m studying exercise science. I guess I figured that would be a good career if I don’t make it as a volleyball player. And if I do make it, it’ll probably be helpful to know some of that stuff.”

Akaashi smiled. “You’re probably right. How did you know that you wanted to be a volleyball player? I mean, how did you graduate high school and then just go to college and know what you wanted to do?”

Bokuto thought about it for a moment. He wasn’t totally sure how to answer Akaashi’s question. “I guess…I knew I wanted to play volleyball professionally since I was a kid. I used to watch the games on TV and I always thought the players looked really cool. And then my mom signed me up for a club when I was in elementary school. It just always made sense for me to pursue that. I’m passionate about it, and I love to play, and I don’t really want to do something for the rest of my life that I hate. As for exercise science, like I said, it seemed like a good backup plan.”

“I really envy your ability to just…know,” Akaashi said, his voice low. He looked self-conscious, pulling at his fingers and eyeing his melting ice cream. 

“Akaashi, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Do you think you’re afraid to go to school because your sister died?”

Akaashi pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and began to chew on it, then looked up at Bokuto. “Yeah, I think so.” He reached over and picked up his bowl of ice cream, dropping it into a garbage can before he continued. “Keiko and I used to do everything together. I mean, we were twins, so that made sense. Our biggest difference was our choice in sports. But other than that, we were always together. I guess I just always thought that Keiko and I would go to school together. It feels wrong to take those steps without her.”

Bokuto swung his legs slightly as he thought over Akaashi’s words. He couldn’t relate to Akaashi’s attachment to his sister, but he understood how it felt to move forward without someone you had always thought would be there. “Can I tell you something, Akaashi?”

Akaashi nodded. “You can tell me anything.”

“When I was little, my dad walked out on me and my mom. He just went to work one day and never came home. It was a little weird growing up without him there, but it was the hardest when I was taking exams for high school. The one I wanted to go to was pretty tough to get into, and I had to work really hard and study a lot. All my friends had their dads to help them, but I was pretty much doing it alone. I mean, I had my mom, but still. Anyway, I passed the exams. Then, when I had to do it again for college, it was a lot easier. I guess because I had done it before, so I knew I could do it again.”

Akaashi tucked his arms around himself and gave Bokuto a sympathetic look. “I’m so sorry, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto waved his hand dismissively. “No, no. It’s okay. That’s not my point anyway. I guess what I’m saying is that you kind of make plans for life, but they don’t always go that way. I never thought I would have to make big decisions without my dad’s guidance. You never thought that you’d have to keep living life without your sister. It’s scary and hard to keep going, but I think the first time is always the hardest. So it’s hard for you to decide what you want to do about school right now, but you’ll make the decision eventually. And then, someday, you’ll have to make more choices that you thought Keiko would be involved with, but it’ll be easier then because you’ve done it before.” He paused and scrunched his nose a little. “I don’t know if that makes any sense. It did in my head.”

Akaashi laughed softly and nodded. “It makes sense, Bokuto-san.” He squeezed his arms a little tighter around himself and gave Bokuto a small, genuine smile. “And what you said helps me a lot, so thank you.”

Bokuto grinned from ear to ear. “I’m glad! Now we just need to figure out what you think you would study.” He tucked a hand under his chin and pursed his lips in thought. “What kinds of things do you like to do, Akaashi? I mean, you’re really good at volleyball, but I get the feeling that you don’t really want to go pro. Although, it would be totally awesome if you did! And then you could send me all your tosses! And we would be unbeatable!” 

Bokuto thrust his fists in the air as if celebrating a victory, and Akaashi doubled over in giggles. He wiped a few gathered tears from his eyes as he settled himself down, then patted Bokuto on the shoulder. “Thank you for your confidence, Bokuto-san, but you’re right. Volleyball is a hobby at most, and as much as I would enjoy playing with you professionally, I don’t think it’s in the stars for me.”

“Hmm… That’s alright.” Bokuto shrugged and crossed his arms, eyeing Akaashi with sparkling eyes. “So, what is something you could see yourself doing?”

Akaashi hummed. “Well, when Keiko and I first started school, our grandmother gave us each a journal. She said Keiko and I wouldn’t always be able to talk in school, and we wouldn’t always be together, so we could use the journals to keep track of things we wanted to tell each other about our days. We did it for a while, but Keiko eventually got bored and would just tell me when we got home. I kept going, but I just journaled about things for myself. I’ve kept a journal for every year of my life since then.”

Bokuto tipped his head slightly. “That’s really cool, Akaashi. But… I don’t think you can just journal for a living.”

Akaashi laughed. “No, definitely not. But you can write. When I was going to enroll in university before everything, I always said I would study writing. Maybe something like journalism, or even the publishing business. I’ve always liked to write.” He laced his fingers together and tugged on the joints one by one. “But after Keiko died, I didn’t feel like I had anything to write about anymore. I didn’t want to write about my feelings because they were so confusing. And Keiko was the only one I shared my writing with. With her gone, I lost all inspiration and motivation.”

The way Akaashi stared at his feet and the corners of his lips tugged down in a small frown caused Bokuto’s heart to ache. He couldn’t fathom the kind of pain and sadness Akaashi felt after losing his sister. Bokuto knew how his bad days felt; Kuroo had had to boost his mood many times in the past after a bad practice or a botched game. Bokuto sometimes got so low after losing or messing things up that he wanted to quit volleyball; Akaashi was so low after his sister died that he had abandoned his favorite creative outlet. That caused Bokuto’s stomach and chest to churn with sadness and frustration for him. 

“Have you found any inspiration after Keiko died?” Bokuto asked quietly. 

The way that Akaashi looked at him made Bokuto’s mouth go dry. It was like water was swirling in Akaashi’s eyes. Bokuto shivered. 

“I have,” Akaashi replied. The way he said it suggested he would say nothing more. Then he turned away from Bokuto and began scooping peaches and cream ice cream into a bowl.

______________________

Bokuto tapped his fingertips absentmindedly on the counter as he watched the second hand on the clock tick its way around and around. _Momo’s_ had been abnormally quiet for the entire shift, leaving him to pass the time with meaningless tasks. He had wiped the counter down so many times that he was pretty sure he could see his reflection in it. Luckily, the clock told him it was nearing the time for them to close the shop.

He and Akaashi hadn’t broached the subject of Akaashi’s writing or school again for the rest of the night. It had felt like Akaashi had nothing more to say about it, and Bokuto had felt as if asking more questions was an invasion of privacy.

Bokuto recalled a conversation he’d had with his mother when he was younger. He had been tasked with writing a personal narrative for one of his classes in middle school, and he’d been struggling with the assignment. He’d asked his mother if she ever wrote things like that, and she had shown him a diary that she kept. 

_“Koutarou, writing is a form of self-expression,” his mother had told him as she ran her hands over the words she had written on the pages of her little journal. “People put their biggest fears and dreams on these pages. It’s not appropriate to read their secrets without permission, so make sure you always respect that.”_

Bokuto wondered if Akaashi wrote his secrets in his journals; maybe that’s why he didn’t push the subject any further. Akaashi had been nothing but forthcoming about his life, but Bokuto’s mother’s words echoed in the back of his mind. Maybe Akaashi wasn’t willing to reveal those kinds of secrets just yet. 

He looked up from where he was tapping his fingers on the counter to watch Akaashi. He was moving the small tables in the dining area, mopping around them. Akaashi’s lips were slightly pursed and his brows just barely furrowed as he concentrated on his task. Bokuto glanced back at the clock and decided he could probably take the machines apart and clean them. 

As he completed his task, he listened to the faint music that was playing from Akaashi’s phone. Bokuto was used to hearing it by now; Akaashi always played something while he performed his closing duties. It was getting to the point where Bokuto could recognize which playlist Akaashi was listening to. Tonight he was playing the one with soft, gentle music. The notes were warm and slow, and they reminded Bokuto of the way the ocean pushed and pulled along the shore. 

Bokuto glanced over his shoulder as he was reassembling the milkshake machine. He thought he heard Akaashi humming, and he was correct. Bokuto lowered his hands from the machine and turned a little more to watch as Akaashi stepped purposely around the dining room. It looked like the younger boy was moving in time to the music he was humming along with; he would step once, twice, then back once, then forward again. He moved around the hard floor lightly, pushing the mop in front of him and switching the handle from hand to hand as if he were switching hands with a dancing partner. 

Bokuto stepped back to the front counter and leaned his elbows on it, resting his chin in his palms. He watched Akaashi move about the dining room in his slow, timed steps. It looked like he was floating on his feet, and Bokuto marveled at how graceful Akaashi was. Bokuto was sure he could never move like that. 

Akaashi noticed him watching and faltered in his steps. He coughed nervously and twisted the mop in his hands, staring at the floor to hide his blush. Bokuto grinned. 

“Don’t stop on my account.”

“Hush.” Akaashi continued mopping, but he didn’t continue dancing. 

Bokuto lifted the counter and entered the dining room, grabbing Akaashi’s phone off the table it was sitting on to turn up the volume. “Seriously, don’t stop. I liked watching you.”

Akaashi stopped mopping and leaned the handle against the wall. “Do you want to learn?”

“Learn?” Bokuto mumbled, sitting the phone back down. 

Akaashi picked it up instead and clicked through the playlist. Once he found the song he was looking for, he paused it and looked back at Bokuto. “Do you know how to dance?”

“Like… ballroom dancing?” Bokuto scratched his cheek and shrugged. “Not really. I danced with my mom once at my cousin’s wedding, but I was like, eight and just stood on her feet.”

“Okay, that’s actually adorable.” Akaashi took the steps to close the gap between himself and Bokuto and tugged on the apron tied around him. “Come on, let me show you. Isn’t it recommended that athletes dance anyway? It’s great strength training.”

Bokuto let Akaashi pull him along to where the dining room was clear of the tables. “I’m pretty sure they recommend ballet, not ballroom. Plus, where did you learn to dance?”

“I took lessons when I was a kid.”

“Of course you did.” Bokuto snorted. “Did you learn to play the violin, too?”

Akaashi narrowed his eyes slightly and smiled. “As a matter of fact, yes.”

Bokuto rolled back on his heels nervously. “So, um… What do I do?”

“I’ll show you.” Akaashi held out his hands for Bokuto to take. “I’ll teach you how to lead because it’s a lot easier that way. It’s hard to do it backwards.”

Bokuto took Akaashi’s hands and stared at their feet. He wanted desperately to look outside to see if anyone from the street was watching them, and he could already feel his face heating up. He wasn’t sure why this was so embarrassing, but it was. He decided to keep his eyes on their feet. At least that way he had less of a chance of messing up. 

“I’ll teach you the box step,” Akaashi murmured. His voice was low and gentle. He lifted his foot and tapped Bokuto’s left. “You’ll step forward with this one, then bring your right foot over here.” He tapped a spot a little to the right of where they stood. “Then you’ll bring your left foot over there too. Let’s try that.”

Bokuto nodded and took a quick breath through his nose. Maybe he was so nervous because he was so close to Akaashi? They were almost nose to nose. Sure, Akaashi had literally straddled him the first night they met, but he had been drunk. They were both completely sober now. Akaashi showed no sign of nervousness or feeling flustered, though. His face was neutral and passive; dark, heavy lidded eyes watched their feet just like Bokuto. 

He took a step back and tugged on Bokuto’s fingers slightly, encouraging him to step forward. Bokuto did, and then he moved his right foot to where Akaashi had indicated. Akaashi mirrored the steps, though he moved with much more fluidity and confidence. Bokuto brought his left foot to his right and they paused.

“Good!” Akaashi looked up at him and smiled brightly. It warmed Bokuto’s chest. “Now you just do the same thing, but you do it backwards.”

Bokuto frowned slightly. “That sounds hard.”

“It’s not as hard as it sounds.” Akaashi nudged Bokuto’s right foot. “Move that one back. Yes, just like that. Then move your left foot over here… And bring them together. Perfect.”

“I don’t think I’m very good at this.” Bokuto began to chew on his bottom lip. 

Akaashi shook his head. “You’re doing great. You can’t be perfect at something you just learned; it takes time. Plus it’s not like this is a competition.” He squeezed Bokuto’s hands gently. “It’s just you and me.”

Bokuto’s heart leapt at Akaashi’s words, and he thought for a moment that he might combust from the heat rising in his chest. He swallowed it, trying to stifle its warmth, and he gave Akaashi a small smile. “Can we do it again?”

They spent the next few minutes doing the steps slowly. Akaashi gave Bokuto quiet encouragement and praise, ensuring him that he was catching on quickly. The warmth in Bokuto’s chest ceased being nervousness and embarrassment and was replaced by fondness and pride. He took the steps more confidently now, and he even let Akaashi show him how to do the steps while they spun slowly around the small dining area. 

“Do you want to try it to music now?” Akaashi asked. He let go of one of Bokuto’s hands (but kept hold of the other) and pulled his phone out of the apron pocket where he had slipped it before. When Bokuto nodded in affirmation, Akaashi hit play on the song he had stopped on before. He dropped the phone back into the apron pocket and took Bokuto’s hand again. “Just step in time with the music. You’re leading, so you move first.”

Bokuto nodded again and took his first step. Akaashi followed, and they took the familiar path that they had been carving together for the last twenty minutes. They said nothing, and _Momo’s_ was quiet save for the slightly muffled music that played from Akaashi’s apron. 

As the song progressed, Akaashi wiggled his fingers out of Bokuto’s grasp and trailed them up his arms. They didn’t stop dancing, but Akaashi rested his arms on Bokuto’s shoulders. Bokuto wasn’t quite sure what to do with his hands, and Akaashi seemed to sense this; he coaxed Bokuto’s unoccupied hands to rest on his hips, then returned his arms to Bokuto’s shoulders. 

They continued taking their steps, moving around the dining room slowly. Bokuto continued to stare at their feet, positive that his cheeks probably looked like he’d spent the afternoon staring directly at the sun without any sunscreen. A quick, bashful glance at Akaashi told him that the younger boy’s cheeks were a pleasant pink color as well, which did help soothe a few of Bokuto’s nerves. 

Slowly they relaxed into each other. Bokuto pressed his fingertips into Akaashi’s hips just slightly. Akaashi clasped his hands together behind Bokuto and moved closer, resting his head on Bokuto’s shoulder. Ever impressed by Akaashi’s quiet confidence, Bokuto drew on some of that courage and rested his cheek against Akaashi’s temple. Soft, slightly curled hair tickled the skin that was pressed against it. 

They weren’t taking the traditional steps for their dance anymore; in fact, they weren’t really taking any steps. Instead, they swayed in place along with the music, which had switched to a new song. Bokuto pressed his nose just slightly into Akaashi’s hair, breathing him in. He smelled of salt with hints of coconut. It was the same scent Bokuto always noticed when Akaashi was sitting next to him on the beach or when they were playing volleyball together. He hadn’t realized it, but he had begun to attribute that scent to Akaashi; now, being so close to it, holding its source against him, he felt his chest ache with longing. 

Bokuto knew he hadn’t been shy or subtle about how beautiful he thought Akaashi was. He supposed Akaashi hadn’t exactly been shy or subtle himself, but it was still a subject they continuously tiptoed around. They had only known each other barely two weeks. A rational side of Bokuto reminded him that their time together was temporary.

He had avoided truly acknowledging any feelings for Akaashi; he only allowed himself to honestly confess that he enjoyed spending time with him. Privately, Kuroo had asked him about how he felt, but Bokuto had told him that he wasn’t going to jump to any conclusions or pursue anything at that moment. But now they were holding each other in the middle of an ice cream shop and dancing to slow music. It was difficult to think rationally or keep his feelings in check under such circumstances. 

Akaashi sighed and the breath warmed the skin on Bokuto’s neck. He shivered slightly, involuntarily pulling Akaashi even closer. Akaashi lifted his head from Bokuto’s shoulder, resting their foreheads together. His eyes were closed, so Bokuto studied his face while they swayed. This close, Bokuto could clearly see the freckles that decorated Akaashi’s cheeks. Since they had first met, the freckles had become more apparent, brought out by the continuous exposure to the sun. Akaashi’s long, dark lashes brushed just over the freckles that were highest on his cheeks, and Bokuto was struck again by just how beautiful Akaashi was. 

Bokuto couldn’t hear the music anymore, though he wasn’t sure if that was because it stopped or because he was so focused on the moment. He closed his eyes and let himself enjoy sharing the same space as Akaashi. His stomach flip-flopped when Akaashi nuzzled their noses together. Bokuto’s heart was racing, and every logical thought about taking things slow and not rushing into some impulsive, teenage summer romance flew out the window and was carried away on the breeze. 

The bell above the door jingled and both Akaashi and Bokuto jumped back from each other abruptly. Bokuto’s eyes flew to the door and he immediately felt his cheeks warm so severely that he thought he might pass out. Surely it would have been better had Aimi been the one to walk in on them. 

Kuroo’s grin was so wide that Bokuto was surprised his face hadn’t split in half. He was leaning casually against Oikawa, who was smirking devilishly, a severe glint in his eye. Iwaizumi stood on the other side of Oikawa, and at least he was trying to be modest as he stared at the wall as if it were suddenly incredibly interesting. Suga and Kenma stood on the other side of Kuroo; Suga had his lips pressed together, clearly trying to keep his laughter contained, and Kenma’s eyes were slid off to the side. He had the back of his hand pressed against his lips and his shoulders shook softly from his quiet giggles. 

“And here I thought the ice cream was the only stuff in this place that might give me cavities,” Kuroo cooed. 

Oikawa chuckled. “I think I just developed diabetes.”

Akaashi fumbled with his phone, still tucked in his apron pocket, and stopped the music. Then he sent Oikawa a weak glare. “We’re closed.”

Suga held up a finger. “Actually, you’re technically still open for five more minutes.”

Bokuto drug his hands down his apron repeatedly, trying to rub the clamminess from his palms. He chewed on his bottom lip, pointedly avoiding looking at Kuroo, then spun on his heel to go back behind the counter. “Well, since we close soon, you better order what you want quickly.” His voice was slightly higher in pitch than normal, tight from embarrassment. 

Akaashi came behind the counter with him and began to scoop ice cream into cones for their friends. Kuroo’s smirk never fell, and he stood off to the side and licked his ice cream slowly, keeping an eye on Bokuto. When Bokuto worked up the courage to look at him, Kuroo made a kissing face at him. 

They finished closing up the shop and left. Akaashi and Bokuto were still reeling from embarrassment, but no one teased them anymore as they walked toward the beach. Akaashi had an ice cream cone filled with cookies and cream, and he stared at it contemplatively as he walked. Bokuto walked next to him, nibbling on his own cone; he slid his eyes over and watched Akaashi for a moment. 

“Remind me to add a tally mark next to cookies and cream,” he said, reaching over to poke Akaashi in the side. 

Akaashi smiled and shooed Bokuto’s hand away. “I honestly don’t really care for this flavor. I was just flustered.” His cheeks colored slightly, and Bokuto could see it even in the dark. 

Bokuto offered his cone, which was filled with the birthday cake flavor. “Wanna trade?”

“But that’s your favorite.”

“I like cookies and cream, too.”

Akaashi hesitated, then traded cones with Bokuto. He licked some of the ice cream that was starting to melt, getting a little bit of the bright blue frosting that Bokuto loved so much. Then he reached over slowly and hooked his pinky finger around Bokuto’s. 

Bokuto stared ahead at the back of his friends’ heads, absentmindedly licking the cookies and cream ice cream as they walked. He felt Akaashi’s hand brush against his free one, and then Akaashi hooked their fingers together. His cheeks warmed a little, but he smiled into his ice cream and curled his finger more tightly around Akaashi’s.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was incredibly self-indulgent. 
> 
> Also: I am working on chapter nine, but I am having some health issues and it's making it difficult for me to stare at my computer for long enough periods of time to write anything substantial. Thank you all for always being so supportive and patient! I promise I will update again as soon as possible!!

Akaashi raised his hand to knock on the door to the small vacation house. Before his knuckles could tap the surface, though, the door was flung open and Akaashi was face to face with a grinning Kuroo.

“Hey there, ‘Kaash,” Kuroo chided. He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms. “What brings you here?”

Akaashi rolled his eyes. “You know why I’m here, Kuroo. Are you going to let me in?”

Kuroo stepped aside and gestured for Akaashi to enter. He did and slipped his shoes off as Kuroo closed the door behind them. Still grinning, Kuroo walked across the small living room and into the kitchen. Kenma was on the couch, curled in on himself, playing some game on his phone. He glanced up at Akaashi and nodded at him. 

“Bokuto is in his room,” Kenma said, raising a hand to point down the hallway. 

“I texted him that I was here,” Akaashi replied, glancing at his phone to see if Bokuto had responded. He hadn’t. “I can just wait here.”

Kenma patted the cushion next to him. “Have a seat then.” 

Akaashi sat and leaned over to see what Kenma was playing, and Kenma angled his phone a little so Akaashi could see better. They sat like that for a few minutes, quiet and comfortable. Akaashi had known Kenma almost as long as he’d known Oikawa and Suga; they had always been comfortable with each other, being the quietest ones in their group of friends. Kenma had always stuck with Akaashi when they were children because both had an aversion to getting in the ocean. Akaashi had many memories of sitting with Kenma under beach umbrellas, playing handheld games or doing crossword puzzles, grimacing when Oikawa and Kuroo sprinkled them with salty sea water after they’d come back from swimming. 

Kuroo emerged from the kitchen with a sandwich and pursed his lips at the pair sitting on the couch. Then he turned on his heel and marched down the hallway, bursting into Bokuto’s room. “Oi, Bokuto! Your boyfriend is here! Let’s go.”

Akaashi and Kenma looked up from the game as a series of loud noises came from Bokuto’s room. It sounded like Kuroo had jumped onto the bed, and then Bokuto was muttering something about Akaashi not being his boyfriend and that he was on the phone. Kuroo cackled, then grunted, and then there was a thud. 

Kenma and Akaashi glanced at each other and grimaced. Kenma rolled his eyes and uncurled himself, slipping off the couch and padding down the hallway to see what was going on. Akaashi followed. They poked their heads around the doorframe to peer into Bokuto’s room, finding Bokuto sitting cross legged on his bed and Kuroo sprawled out on the floor, still nibbling on his sandwich. 

“Don’t break anything,” Kenma muttered. “I’m not paying the fee for damages.”

Kuroo grinned and shrugged. Bokuto was glaring at him, but his face softened when he saw Akaashi. He pointed to the phone pressed against his ear and made an apologetic face. Akaashi nodded in understanding. 

Bokuto turned his attention back to the person on the other end of his call. “I’m here, Mama. Sorry. Kuroo is being…stupid.” 

Akaashi looked away from Bokuto and stared at the pattern of the wood in the doorframe. He felt like he might be intruding on something even though Bokuto didn’t seem to mind him being there. Kenma entered the room and forced Kuroo to sit up, muttering about not eating while laying down and _Don’t you remember what happened the last time you did that?_ Kuroo only plopped back on the bed and leaned in to listen to Bokuto’s conversation with his mother. Bokuto shoved at him halfheartedly. 

“No, I haven’t heard back from them,” Bokuto said. “I probably won’t until the beginning of September… Of course I’ll tell you if I hear from them before I’m home.” He paused as he listened, then pressed his palm against Kuroo’s face. Kuroo chuckled and swatted it away. 

“Tell your mom I said hi!” Kuroo was whispering, but it was more like an obnoxiously quiet yell. He listened again to Bokuto’s phone, then laughed. “Hi!” He did yell this time. 

Bokuto looked like he wanted to glare in earnest, but his lips split into a silly grin and he rolled his eyes at Kuroo. He looked down, then, and picked at the hem of his shorts. “Is everything okay at home? Do you need any money?”

Akaashi let his eyes travel back over to Bokuto and, despite trying not to be nosey, listened to what Bokuto was saying. Bokuto’s voice had dropped and he spoke more quietly now, but not so quietly that it was like he was trying to hide something. Even Kuroo’s body language changed, and Akaashi noticed that he leaned away from Bokuto a bit, almost to give him space. 

Bokuto continued to pick at his shorts. “Are you sure? I can send you money to pay the power bill… I barely spend anything here, Mama… Fine. But you’ll tell me if you need help?” He sighed then. “Thank you… No, we’re going to the boardwalk tonight since we have the night off from work… Okay, I’ll talk to you soon… I love you too.” 

Akaashi looked away quickly as Bokuto ended the call and turned his attention to the audience in his room. Akaashi definitely felt like he was intruding now. He knew vaguely that Bokuto and his mother might have some financial difficulties, but that didn’t mean it was any of his business. He kept his gaze trained on his hands and pulled on his knuckles, trying his best to look casual and occupied. 

“Sorry about that, I wasn’t expecting her to call,” Bokuto chirped, jumping up from his bed. Kuroo followed and they all filed out of his bedroom and down the hallway.

Akaashi looked up at him and shrugged. “That’s okay. Is your mom doing well?”

Bokuto nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, she’s great! We just haven’t talked much since I got here, just texts and stuff here and there. I guess she had the night off work, so she just wanted to chat a bit.” He huffed a slightly shy laugh. “I haven’t actually seen her in over three weeks. I don’t think we’ve ever gone that long without seeing each other.”

Something akin to affection blossomed in Akaashi’s chest, warming him from the inside out. It was apparent that Bokuto was close with his mother; he spoke of her often and always with a deep fondness. Akaashi loved listening to him talk about his life back in Tokyo, and despite never having met or spoke with the woman, Akaashi admired Bokuto’s mother. She had raised Bokuto essentially on her own, and Akaashi often wondered if she knew just how good of a job she had done. He had never met someone as kindhearted and selfless as Bokuto. The conversation he had just unceremoniously eavesdropped on proved that; Bokuto would send his mother every paycheck he got from _Momo’s_ if she needed it. 

As they left the little house and set off toward the boardwalk, Akaashi reached over and threaded his and Bokuto’s fingers together. Bokuto smiled warmly at him and squeezed his hand softly. It was as if some barrier had fallen between them ever since they had danced with each other at _Momo’s_ a little over a week ago, and now Akaashi was almost always reaching for Bokuto’s hand when they walked anywhere together. 

Every night Akaashi walked Bokuto home from work, they were linked together by their hands. Anytime they weren’t playing volleyball on the beach, they were walking hand in hand along the shoreline. They hooked their pinkies together when they stood at the edges of the crowd at Saturday night parties. 

They hadn’t talked about what that meant, if it meant anything. 

If their friends had an opinion about it, no one said anything. Kuroo had just taken to referring to Akaashi as Bokuto’s boyfriend, but that wasn’t constant, nor was it particularly shocking. Kuroo would have probably done that anyway. Akaashi was a little surprised that Oikawa hadn’t said anything; it seemed like something he would usually pounce on and harass Akaashi about until he went crazy. 

The sun was setting on the horizon, coloring the sky with dramatic oranges and reds. It was vibrant and exciting, like the sea was welcoming the sun home after a long day of hard work. As the sun sank lower and lower, the moon began to show her pale face high above. She was still faint against the growing blue of the sky, but her glow was soothing and gentle, like a mother ready to lull the ocean to sleep. The tide lapped lazily at the shore in the distance, pushing further and further up the sand as the tide began to fill in. 

Akaashi was used to the buzz and noises of the boardwalk, but he still clung to Bokuto’s hand tightly. He could easily see Bokuto becoming excited over something and taking off, separating them, and Akaashi didn’t want to be away from Bokuto for longer than he had to. 

Kenma tucked himself close to Kuroo’s side and curled his hand in the taller boy’s shirt. The boardwalk wasn’t Kenma’s favorite place; there were many people moving in many directions all at once, with people yelling over each other and trying to squeeze around and through groups. For as long as Akaashi could remember, Kenma had always become Kuroo’s shadow while on the boardwalk, staying so close to him that Kenma didn’t even have to look where he was going as long as he took the same footsteps as Kuroo did.

They wove through the crowd, Kuroo leading the way. They were heading toward the largest pier, which stood out because of the colorful Ferris Wheel that rose against the darkening sky. The ride was already lit up with bright, colorful lights that flashed and danced, chasing each other around the circle as it spun. Bokuto followed Kuroo with a gleeful bounce in his step, pulling Akaashi along behind him. 

When they reached the entrance of the pier, they stopped at the ticket booth and got wristbands so they could ride as many of the attractions as they wanted. People milled about around them, carrying large stuffed toys and candy and sweet treats. Children ran past them, rushing to get in line for whatever ride they wanted to go on next. Kuroo helped Kenma secure his wristband, then draped an arm over his shoulder to keep him close and help him feel secure. He glanced around, using his height to his advantage to scan the crowd. Then he stuck his free arm in the air and waved wildly. 

A few moments later Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Suga joined their group. Suga bounced over to Akaashi and leaned against him, smiling sweetly. Akaashi returned the smile. Oikawa and Iwaizumi were holding hands, but it was clear that Oikawa had been the one to make that decision and Iwaizumi was just humoring him. 

“So, what are we doing first?” Oikawa asked cheerily. “I don’t really care what we do just as long as Iwa-chan and I get to ride the Ferris Wheel at some point.” 

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “Why do you like that ride so much? It’s not nearly as exciting as the rollercoaster or the drop tower.”

Oikawa pursed his lips. “It’s very romantic, Iwa-chan. That’s why.”

“Oh, right. My mistake.” Iwaizumi spoke in a monotonous tone, smirking when Oikawa glared at him. 

Kuroo chuckled. “Bo, you wanted to ride the Ferris Wheel, too. Why don’t we do that first?”

Akaashi glanced over at Bokuto, who had yet to speak. He was staring up at the ride, eyes wide. He looked like he was in awe, but also somewhat…apprehensive? He snapped his attention to Kuroo and nodded though. They all got in line, chattering amongst themselves while they waited for their turns. Bokuto kept his eye on the giant spinning wheel, flicking his gaze back and forth between it and Akaashi. 

Kenma tugged on Kuroo’s wrist as they neared the front of the line. “How are we going to split up for the cars? We can’t all fit in one.”

Oikawa grabbed Iwaizumi by the arm. “Iwa-chan and I are riding together.” Iwaizumi just grunted. 

Akaashi noticed that Bokuto inched closer to him, pointedly away from Kuroo. He reached out and hooked their pinky fingers together. “Bokuto-san and I can ride together. Suga, do you want to ride with us?”

Suga shrugged and smiled. “Sure! I can ride with anyone.”

Kenma let go of Kuroo and scooted over to stand near Iwaizumi. “I’m not riding alone with Kuro. He’ll rock the car.”

Oikawa protested anyone riding with him and Iwaizumi, insisting it wouldn’t be “romantic” that way. Suga pointed out that if Oikawa and Iwaizumi rode with just the two of them, they’d have to sit on opposite sides of the car to keep it balanced. Then they wouldn’t be able to hold hands. This convinced Oikawa, and they settled on Kuroo and Kenma riding with them, while Suga rode with Bokuto and Akaashi. 

Akaashi climbed into the car first, then Bokuto, then Suga. Bokuto sat next to Akaashi, visibly stiff and sort of jumpy as they buckled themselves in. Suga leaned back on his bench and smiled as the wheel began to turn and they ascended into the air. They didn’t go very far, though, because Kuroo, Kenma, Oikawa, and Iwaizumi boarded the car just below theirs. After they were securely fastened, the ride attendant set the wheel in motion, lifting them higher and higher.

They stopped occasionally as the ride was loaded and unloaded. Each time the wheel lurched to a stop the car would swing slightly, and Bokuto would grasp the belt that was pulled across his lap. He kept his eyes downward, staring at his hands. Akaashi noticed that he seemed to tense up with every meter that they rose into the air. Eventually their car stopped at the very summit of the wheel, awarding them with a breathtaking view of the boardwalk and the ocean.

The sun was almost completely set, and the moon had revealed herself fully in the night sky. The ocean was darkening, turning a navy blue, almost black color as it lapped at the shoreline. Some people milled about on the sand. The boardwalk, however, was alive with activity. People were everywhere, and lights were blinking and flashing across every rooftop; music was playing from multiple places, creating an interesting blend of sounds amidst the din of human voices. The breeze that floated off the ocean rose to meet them, kissing their cheeks with its chilled lips. 

Akaashi loved this view, and he smiled as he took in all the sights. Suga was sitting sideways on his bench, an arm propped on the edge of the car as he gazed out over the water. Akaashi turned to ask Bokuto what he thought but found Bokuto was still staring at his lap.

Frowning, Akaashi reached over to touch the top of Bokuto’s hand. He jumped just slightly at the contact, and Akaashi blinked a few times. “Bokuto-san… Are you afraid of heights?”

Bokuto blushed and swallowed. “Um, I mean, I’m not a huge fan of them. Usually I don’t get so nervous, but this ride is a lot bigger than it looked when I saw it on the train.” He huffed out a nervous laugh and raised a hand to scratch at his cheek. 

From below them, Kuroo cupped his hands around his lips and called out: “Suga! Rock the car!”

A chorus of _No!_ rose from everyone in both carts, and Kuroo cackled maniacally. Akaashi glared down at Kuroo, then reached over and took Bokuto’s hand. Bokuto accepted it and gripped back tightly, letting himself take a shaky breath. 

“It won’t be so bad once we start moving,” Akaashi assured him. “They’re probably loading the last car now, and then we’ll go around a few times.”

He was right, and after the last group of new passengers got on, the wheel began to turn around and around. Bokuto relaxed a little then, not as nervous from the constant stopping and starting. He even ventured to look up and take in the view, marveling at the sight of the ocean and the boardwalk. 

Eventually their ride ended, and luckily their cart was one of the first to get unloaded. Bokuto looked relieved to have reached the ground again, but he also looked like he’d had fun. They all rode a few more rides together, like the swings and the drop tower. Bokuto wasn’t nearly as nervous on those, though he did hold Akaashi’s hand again at the top of the drop tower.

Once they finished with the rides, Kenma insisted that he and Kuroo go play games, and Iwaizumi told Oikawa he had to ride the rollercoaster with him because he had gotten on the Ferris Wheel. The pairs set off, and Akaashi suggested he, Bokuto, and Suga go get ice cream. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of ice cream?” Bokuto asked. 

“Never,” Akaashi replied, smirking and pulling Bokuto along with him. 

Suga followed at a casual pace behind them, and they ended up at a nearby ice cream spot. Akaashi eyed the flavors, trying to decide which one he felt like getting. Suga leaned forward and pointed at a picture of a giant bowl of ice cream with lots of colorful pictures all around it. 

“Bokuto, this place has this thing called The Tsunami. You get five scoops of ice cream and three toppings, and if you finish the whole thing you get your picture on the wall,” Suga said, smiling cheerily. 

As soon as Bokuto’s eyes lit up, Akaashi grimaced. He shot Suga an exasperated look. “Really, Suga?” 

“Akaashi!” Bokuto bounced on his heels. “I want my picture on the wall!”

Suga stood up straight and smirked. “Akaashi has his picture on the wall. I think he has it, what? Six times?”

Akaashi sighed, then nodded. Bokuto gasped. 

“Akaashi, we should both get one and see who can finish it first!” Bokuto looked incredibly determined, and Akaashi knew nothing he said would deter him from his idea at this point. “Then it’ll be like a competition, but we can both get our pictures on the wall!”

“Bokuto-san, are you sure you want to do that?” Akaashi turned to him and crossed his arms, then smirked. “I eat a lot more ice cream than you on a daily basis. And brain freeze isn’t in my DNA.”

Bokuto’s eyes flashed with a competitive glint. “But that’s over a period of time, Akaashi. Not all in one sitting.”

Akaashi shrugged and turned to order. “Suit yourself.”

Suga licked his ice cream cone casually as the rest of their friends approached the table where he, Akaashi, and Bokuto sat. Akaashi licked some mint chocolate chip ice cream off his spoon and raised an eyebrow at Bokuto, who was staring with slumped shoulders at his slowly melting bowl of ice cream.

Kuroo sighed once they reached the table. “Suga, what did you do?”

Suga shrugged and smiled into his cone. “Just a friendly competition. It was Bokuto’s idea, actually.”

“But I’m betting you’re the one who brought The Tsunami to his attention,” Iwaizumi quipped. 

Akaashi smirked at Bokuto. “Are you getting full, Bokuto-san?”

Bokuto groaned and poked his spoon into the ice cream. “I can’t believe this! I thought for sure I could beat you! And not only that, but I don’t even know if I can finish this thing at all! And then I won’t get my picture on the wall!” 

“I could help you, then I’ll get my picture on the wall two more times instead of one,” Akaashi suggested. Bokuto pouted at him. 

Instead, Kuroo and Kenma ate the rest of Bokuto’s ice cream, and Akaashi let Oikawa finish his so Bokuto wouldn’t be so sad. The four of them got a picture together, then set off to find something else to do. Bokuto was positive he couldn’t ride anymore rides, lest he throw up, so he and Akaashi set off to play games. Eventually their friends found them, and they played some games together, winning bigger and bigger prizes until Kenma managed to get a stuffed cat that was almost as tall as he was. 

They wandered around the boardwalk until Kenma told Kuroo he was tired. Kuroo took the cat toy and crouched, letting Kenma climb on his back. They set off toward the house, bidding everyone goodbye. Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Suga decided to go to the rides one more time before the boardwalk closed, but Akaashi and Bokuto separated from them and began to walk home themselves. 

“You don’t have to walk me home, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said as they made their way onto the sidewalk. 

Bokuto scoffed. “You literally insist on walking me home every night we work. I think I can return the gesture every once in a while.”

“I walk you home for selfish reasons.”

“Well maybe I’m walking you home for selfish reasons, too.”

Akaashi smiled and reached for Bokuto’s hand. They walked together like that, swinging their joined hands gently between them. The ocean rolled behind them, waves crashing into the pier in the dark. The faint shouts of people still on the boardwalk could be heard over the water, floating through the air on the wind. Akaashi thought it smelled a little like rain. 

“Are we going to talk about this, or are we just going to leave it and say nothing?” Bokuto wasn’t looking at him, just straight ahead as they walked, but he squeezed Akaashi’s hand to indicate what he meant. 

“I’m okay with just leaving it,” Akaashi mumbled. He shrugged. “But we can talk about it you want to.”

Bokuto hummed. “I don’t know. I mean, what happens when the summer is over? Like, will I ever talk to you again?” He was looking at Akaashi now, nibbling on his bottom lip. 

Akaashi slowed his steps and stopped on the sidewalk, turning to face Bokuto. He reached forward and took Bokuto’s other hand, holding them both and trying to memorize how Bokuto’s skin felt against his. “Do you want to talk to me again when the summer is over?”

“Yes.”

There was no hesitation in Bokuto’s reply, no beat where he thought about his response. He answered immediately, and the warm affection bloomed in Akaashi’s chest again.

“Me too.” Akaashi knew such a sentiment was likely naïve and foolish – they were both barely adults, still closer to teenagerhood and all the ignorance that came with it. But he hoped that maybe it wasn’t so foolish; maybe, by some cosmic influence, what existed between them was something that would persist beyond just some fickle summer romance. 

They stood there, silent, just holding each other’s hands. Akaashi wondered if he should say something else. He wondered if he should start walking again, or if Bokuto was waiting for him to do something more, like take their contact beyond hand-holding. Maybe Bokuto was waiting to do it himself but wasn’t sure if Akaashi was okay with it. Akaashi was running the scenarios through his head, wondering just how he _would_ react, when the wind began to pick up and the first tell-tale droplets landed on his cheek. 

Next thing they knew, the dark sky above opened up and rain began to fall. It was heavy and lazy, giant raindrops that fell with comical splats on the concrete. Akaashi tipped his head back to let the rain fall freely on his face, smiling as the drops fell heavy on his nose, eyelids, cheeks, and slid down to wet his neck, then seeped into his clothing.

He lowered his face and opened his eyes to look at Bokuto and immediately began laughing. Bokuto was pouting, and his hair had come undone from the gel he used to push it back. It fell limply around his forehead and temples, black and white strands dripping into his golden eyes and plastered to his rapidly soaking skin. 

Akaashi reached up and pushed Bokuto’s hair back, using the water to hold it in place, though a few strands still dropped back down. “You look so cute.”

Bokuto grinned and reached up to tug on some of Akaashi’s wet curls. “You just look frizzy.”

Akaashi feigned offense, then glanced around them. No one was there, and no cars were in the streets. His heart leapt playfully in his chest, and he took Bokuto’s hands in his again and began to pull him off the sidewalk and into the deserted road. Bokuto blinked through the rain, furrowing his brows in confusion. 

“Akaashi, what are you doing?”

“Dance with me in the rain, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto gave a single laugh. “Are you serious?”

Akaashi nodded and finished pulling them into the middle of the road. He kept ahold of Bokuto’s hands, spinning them around in dizzying circles. Bokuto held on tight, probably more from instinct as he tried to keep his balance than from actually participating in the silly movements Akaashi was calling dancing.

He eventually gained his footing though, and he let go of one of Akaashi’s hand, raising their joined ones above their heads to twirl Akaashi around. They were both giggling, spinning with each other and bouncing around in the rain like children. The rain began to lighten a bit, the droplets not falling quite as harshly against their skin. They were still thoroughly soaked, though, their clothes drenched and their hair dripping.

Akaashi rested his arms on Bokuto’s shoulders like he had done that night at _Momo’s,_ but he didn’t feel as tentative or shy this time. Bokuto didn’t hesitate in resting his hands on Akaashi’s hips, and they continued to spin slowly in the street. 

If Bokuto’s eyes could possibly get any brighter, Akaashi thought he might be blinded by their light. He was constantly amazed at how Bokuto’s honey colored eyes seemed to shine more in the dark than in the sunshine. He thought maybe it was because during the day, Bokuto had to compete with the sun. At night, he was the only star that was shining. 

Their spinning slowed to a stop, and Akaashi felt something begin to churn in his belly. They were sharing the same space, the same breath, again. The last time they had been interrupted; Akaashi had spent the days following daydreaming about what might have been had their friends not walked in. This time, however, they were alone. Even if someone happened to pass them on the street, it was unlikely they would interfere. 

The churning in his belly increased, swelling like the ocean did when a storm gathered its waters up so it could crash violently against the shore. It stirred up sea foam, a fuzzy feeling filling Akaashi’s chest until he felt like he could no longer breathe. His lungs were burning, and Bokuto was the oxygen he needed. 

They closed the gap between them simultaneously, and the foam in Akaashi’s chest exploded against his ribcage like waves crashing onto a rocky shore. It all rolled through his chest as he breathed Bokuto in, reaching up to tangle his fingers into Bokuto’s hair and pull him closer. Akaashi’s heart hammered in his chest; if its erratic beat was the pulse of a hurricane, their lips moving together were the winds whipping the water around the cyclone. 

Bokuto dug his fingertips into Akaashi’s hips and began to nudge him backward, not letting their lips leave each other. Akaashi stepped tentatively, letting Bokuto guide him out of the street and back to the sidewalk. They stopped only once Akaashi’s back was pressed against the side of one of the buildings lining the street. Bokuto’s hands left Akaashi’s hips then, cupping his cheeks instead as he pressed his body flush against Akaashi. 

Akaashi couldn’t help but let a soft whine escape his throat when Bokuto drug his tongue along his bottom lip. Without a second thought, Akaashi parted his lips just slightly to allow Bokuto to deepen the kiss; he tasted sweet, like the ice cream he had been eating not long ago, and the warmth of his tongue against Akaashi’s was a stark contrast to the feeling of their rain-chilled skin pressed together. 

The wind bustled past them, cooling their damp skin even further, and Akaashi shivered slightly. The tremble brought Bokuto to his senses, and he pulled away, resting his forehead against Akaashi’s. They both panted slightly, gradually regaining their breath; Akaashi shivered again, though he wasn’t sure if it was from the rain or from the kiss.

“You need to get home before you get sick,” Bokuto murmured. He was running his thumbs along Akaashi’s cheeks softly. 

“I’ll be okay,” Akaashi whispered in reply, leaning up to press their lips together again once, twice, three times. 

Bokuto smiled into the kisses and returned them, then pulled further away and grasped Akaashi’s hand tightly. “Come on.”

They walked to Akaashi’s home quickly, lingering outside the gate just long enough to share another kiss. This one was gentler. 

Akaashi ran his tongue along his lips slowly as he watched Bokuto jog away, savoring the lingering sweetness that was better than any flavor of ice cream he had ever tasted.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My migraines have held off for a while, so I'm taking advantage of being able to look at my computer for more than 20 minutes and posting a chapter. Yay!
> 
> I added a tag. I felt like it was necessary, but I won't be adding a rating because it's certainly not explicit.

Bokuto scanned the beach for the familiar messy curls that never ceased to make his heart flutter in his chest. Kuroo was leading their small trio as they made their way down the sandy sidewalk, weaving around other mingling bodies toward the soft boom of music that floated on the breeze from further down the beach. 

Kuroo was pulling Kenma along by his wrist, who was trailing along semi-reluctantly, trying to play a game on his phone with one hand. He was failing. Bokuto brought up the rear of their little train, ensuring that Kenma didn’t trip and tumble to the concrete, bringing Kuroo with him and, consequently, Bokuto, when he would inevitably trip over both of them. 

Bokuto was slightly distracted, though, as he searched for Akaashi. He hadn’t seen him the day prior – a rarity – because Akaashi had taken off work. Suga had filled his shift, which had been pleasant enough, but not nearly as nice as when Akaashi worked with him. Working with Suga meant no Akaashi to fling sampling spoons at Bokuto, no sharing ice cream from Akaashi’s fourth, fifth, and sixth cones of the night, and most importantly, no sugar-laced kisses snuck in the walk-in freezer when no customers were at _Momo’s._

Needless to say, Bokuto was missing Akaashi desperately after just twenty-four hours, and he was eager to see him again. 

They found Iwaizumi and Oikawa where they always were at the Saturday night parties: manning the hub of music. Oikawa was lazily sipping on a beer, nuzzling Iwaizumi’s shoulder as he watched Iwaizumi queue songs. As soon as Kuroo trotted down the sand, Kenma in tow, Oikawa greeted him excitedly and handed Kuroo his own drink. As usual, Kenma scurried over to plop down on a beach blanket behind Iwaizumi, tucking himself into a spot where no one would bother him until Kuroo came and found him later. 

Suga was lingering by Iwaizumi’s table, sipping on his own drink and chatting amicably with a dark haired stranger. He saw Bokuto lingering, though, and waved him over.

“If you’re looking for Akaashi, he’s down by the shore,” Suga said, smiling pleasantly. To say that Bokuto had moped about during his shift the night before would be an understatement, and Suga, perceptive as always, knew exactly why. 

Bokuto threw up a quick prayer to whatever gods may be listening, asking them to always bless Suga in everything that he did. 

Sure enough, Bokuto found Akaashi situated in the sand, sitting as close to the edge of the water as he could without the tide getting him wet. He had his knees pulled to his chest, and he wore one of the hoodies that Bokuto had lent him at the last party. Bokuto briefly wondered if he would ever get the hoodie back. Probably not.

He padded up behind Akaashi and dropped into the sand next to him. Akaashi looked away from the rapidly setting sun and smiled at Bokuto, scooting closer and lifting one of Bokuto’s arms up so he could tuck himself underneath it. 

“Hi,” he murmured. 

“Hey, hey,” Bokuto replied. He pressed his lips to Akaashi’s temple and lingered for a moment, soaking in the warmth of Akaashi’s skin against his lips. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to work yesterday,” Akaashi said. He was whispering. 

Bokuto laced their fingers together. “That’s okay, Suga told me.”

They were quiet for a few minutes, just staring at the waves.

Finally, Akaashi spoke. “I told her about you.”

Bokuto hummed. “Did you tell her all about how amazing and handsome and unbearably sexy I am?”

“No.” Akaashi gave Bokuto a flat look, then pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek when Bokuto pouted. “But I did tell her about how smart and sweet you are. And I told her about how you care about me and how I think she would like you.”

Bokuto felt his cheeks warm and he ducked his head a little to hide his blush. Akaashi rested his head on Bokuto’s shoulder and picked at the loose threads on the sleeves of the hoodie.

“Maybe next time you can come with me.”

“I would really like that.”

_Next time._ Akaashi continuously spoke in future tense when it involved him and Bokuto, which never ceased to make Bokuto’s stomach fill with butterflies. Bokuto had no idea what the future really did look like, but he genuinely hoped that it involved Akaashi. He also genuinely hoped he would get to visit Akaashi’s sister’s grave with him someday; it was an incredibly intimate and personal time that Akaashi wanted to share with Bokuto, and that was something he would always cherish.

They stayed together in the sand for a while longer until Suga and Oikawa came to get them, insisting they come join the party. The sun had sunk below the horizon by then, leaving only faded streaks of pale orange and pink to remember it by. Despite the days still being warm and thick with heat, the nights brought the cool promise of fall as August came to an end. Akaashi tucked Bokuto’s hoodie around him more tightly as they walked up the sand, and Bokuto wrapped his arm around Akaashi’s waist and pulled him close to his side. 

Once they rejoined their friends, Suga bounced over with a cup filled with some kind of alcohol for Akaashi and a beer for Bokuto. They settled onto the beach blanket where Kenma was stationed, listening to Iwaizumi’s music and talking with their friends. Suga came and went as usual, always bringing more drinks for Akaashi. Oikawa and Kuroo had a mini drinking contest to see who could drink beer faster, but Bokuto ended up making Kuroo laugh and then beer came out of his nose. They called it quits on the competitions after that.

The night rolled on, and Bokuto made sure to keep himself only pleasantly buzzed as he mingled with a few people he’d gotten to know since arriving. He and Akaashi wandered around for a little bit and even joined in on a game of volleyball, but no one was coordinated enough while under the influence of their drink of choice for the game to be serious. 

Eventually they settled back on the beach blanket. Suga offered Bokuto another beer, but he turned it down, opting for a water bottle instead. Akaashi took the fresh drink Suga had gotten for him, sipping it and eyeing Bokuto the whole time. 

“Hey, Bokuto.” Akaashi spoke more loudly than usual, and he had dropped the “-san” from Bokuto’s name, a clear indication of his increasing levels of intoxication. He wasn’t being overly clingy, though, so he wasn’t quite drunk. Yet. 

Bokuto hummed a response and Akaashi pursed his lips a little. “How come you never drink much? Like, you drink some, but not a lot. Do you not like to drink?”

“I usually don’t drink much because it’s not good for professional athletes to do that,” Bokuto replied. “I know I’m not a professional yet, but if it happens, I would like for my body to be in as best shape as possible.”

Akaashi nodded slowly, like Bokuto was telling him some deep secret.

Bokuto and Akaashi’s conversation was cut short by a small group of girls approaching Iwaizumi’s table. Oikawa, who was leaning against the table, tore his gaze away from Iwaizumi to eye them curiously, quirking an eyebrow and pursing his lips slightly. 

One of the girls flashed Oikawa a sweet smile and waved at him with a soft twinkle of her fingers, which Oikawa returned. Her companion swung a small backpack from her shoulders and plopped it onto the sand. She unzipped it and pulled out two large bottles of wine, holding them up on display with a triumphant smile.

Oikawa’s grin deepened and he stood from leaning on the table. “Well, well, how kind of you.”

“Ooh, I want wine,” Akaashi said as he excitedly smacked Bokuto’s knee. 

Bokuto eyed the drink already in Akaashi’s other hand, grinning. “Didn’t you just get that drink?”

Akaashi glanced at the cup in his hand, then gave it a jerk to throw the liquid into the sand. He turned back to Bokuto and smiled, the problem solved, then jumped up and scrambled after Oikawa, who was busy picking the wrapping off the neck of a bottle. 

Both boys deflated the moment the wrapping was removed. Oikawa threw his head back dramatically and spun in the sand, thrusting the bottle toward Iwaizumi. 

“Iwa-chan!” he whined, shaking the bottle slightly.

“What is your problem, Oikawa?” Iwaizumi asked, dropping a headphone from his ear and glaring in Oikawa’s direction. He eyed the wine bottle, noticed the cork lodged deep in its neck, and rolled his eyes. “Shittykawa, you know I don’t have a bottle opener. We only bring twist tops.”

Oikawa groaned and held the wine bottle close to his chest. Akaashi eyed him sadly, then plopped onto the blanket next to Bokuto. He pulled his knees to his chest and rested his chin there, pouting. Bokuto threw his head back in an open-mouth laugh and draped an arm across Akaashi’s shoulders. 

“Don’t worry, I got this,” he said, then turned to look over his shoulder slightly. “Hey, Kuroo! Come here!”

Kuroo, who was busy laying against a pile of sand and twirling some of Kenma’s hair with his finger, turned his head. His lazy demeanor melted away as soon as Bokuto called for him, and he scrambled to his feet. The beer he carried in his hand sloshed over the edges of the bottle, and he switched hands to shake some off as he stumbled over. Kenma stood and walked over behind him, mostly trying to keep Kuroo from face-planting into the sand.

Kuroo dropped to his knees next to Bokuto, taking a gulp of his drink before nodding at his friend. “What’s up?”

Bokuto pointed at the bottle Oikawa was still cradling against his chest. “Do the thing with the corks.”

Kuroo smirked, stood, and pressed his drink into Kenma’s chest, who took it and rolled his eyes. Kuroo reached a lazy hand out for the wine bottle and Oikawa handed it over carefully. He walked over to Iwaizumi’s table and placed the bottle down, then fished out his keyring from his pocket and found a small tool attached.

“Are you ready to see some magic?” he asked the small group, waving the tool. “I need someone to hold the bottle.”

Akaashi immediately thrust his hand into the air, jumping up and trotting over to Kuroo. He wrapped his hands around the base of the bottle and watched with wide eyes as Kuroo began driving the mini screwdriver into the cork. 

“Now,” Kuroo muttered as he worked, “the trick is all about creating a lever.”

“Oh here we go,” Kenma mumbled, rolling his eyes. He took a small sip from his own drink and watched Kuroo and Akaashi with a slightly raised brow. 

“Kenma, do you think I should take a drink of a beer every time Kuroo says the word ‘lever’?” Bokuto asked, giving the blonde boy a lopsided grin. 

Kenma huffed a laugh and the corners of his mouth quirked in a small smile. “You’ll get alcohol poisoning.”

Kuroo drove the screwdriver deep into the cork and began tugging on it. It eventually slipped over the mouth of the wine bottle just slightly, then Kuroo dug the screwdriver through the side of the cork. He began pushing and pulling the screwdriver against the cork, slowly pulling it out. Akaashi watched him with wide, bright eyes, and nodded every time Kuroo muttered something about a ‘lever.’ Bokuto counted at least seven mentions of the word, but he may have missed some over the music. 

Finally, the cork popped free and the small group of people around Kuroo and Akaashi cheered. Oikawa took the bottle and began pouring wine while Kuroo set to work on the other bottle. He was successful with that one as well, and when Akaashi came back to Bokuto, he had his own cup of wine filled to the brim. He was grinning like a child.

“Kuroo has uncorked many wine bottles at parties at school,” Bokuto explained. 

Akaashi sipped his wine and nodded. “That was pretty impressive. Try this, it’s really good!” He offered the cup to Bokuto, and Bokuto took a small sip. It was good; it was sweet and fruity, and probably dangerous if Bokuto kept drinking it. He settled with the few sips Akaashi gave him, then left the rest for Akaashi to drink.

______________________

Bokuto had his chin resting on Akaashi’s head. Akaashi was tucked between his legs, and Bokuto was pretty sure he was asleep; he hadn’t moved or said anything for nearly half an hour. Bokuto scrolled through social media apps on his phone absentmindedly, not really paying any mind to what was popping up on his feeds. He just wanted something to occupy his hands.

Kenma approached them and crouched next to Bokuto. “I’m going to take Kuro home. He just threw up in a sand dune.”

Bokuto made a disgusted face. “Oh boy. Okay. Do you need help?”

“No, I think I can handle him. He seems like he’s sobered up a bit after throwing up.” Kenma stood and nodded at Akaashi. “Maybe you should get him home.”

Bokuto glanced down at Akaashi, but he couldn’t really see his face. It was buried in Bokuto’s chest. “You’re probably right. Call me if you need any help.”

Kenma walked away and Bokuto shook Akaashi’s shoulder lightly. It took a few tries, but eventually Akaashi stirred. He lifted his head and blinked sleepily. 

“I think it’s time to go home,” Bokuto whispered. He slipped his phone in his pocket and shifted to stand. 

“Mmkay,” Akaashi mumbled. He rubbed his eyes then took Bokuto’s hand, letting himself be lifted to his feet. 

Oikawa was sitting in a chair leaning against Iwaizumi’s side as he played on his computer. People still milled about the beach, and Bokuto knew they would stay until Iwaizumi decided to go home. Suga was nowhere to be found, but Bokuto guessed he was off with that dark haired boy he had been talking to earlier in the night. They seemed friendly with each other. 

Bokuto told Iwaizumi that they were leaving, then took Akaashi’s hand and set off in the direction of the younger boy’s home. Akaashi was surprisingly steady on his feet for the amount he’d drank throughout the night. He must have slept much of it off during his little nap. 

When they made it to the gate outside Akaashi’s house, Akaashi tugged gently on Bokuto’s hand. “It’s late. Stay here tonight.”

“I’ll be okay walking home.”

“Please?”

If Bokuto thought he could resist Akaashi’s pouty face, he was sorely mistaken. He wasn’t even sure if Akaashi knew he was doing it, but it made Bokuto’s knees weak. He nodded and let Akaashi lead him inside the house. 

It was dark. Akaashi’s parents were accustomed to him not coming home until late on the weekends. Bokuto always wondered how they so readily trusted their son to be out all hours of the night; his mother would have never let him do that. She still texted him to make sure he was safe. They slipped their sandy shoes off in the entryway and headed up the stairs. Bokuto followed Akaashi quietly down the hall and into his bedroom. 

Akaashi closed the door behind them and walked over to his desk to click the lamp on, illuminating the room in a soft yellow glow. 

It was spacious and – surprisingly – cluttered. There was a pair of dark-rimmed glasses on the bedside table, and stacks of paper were piled on the desk near the window. Bokuto eyed a few small heaps of clothes and other miscellaneous items scattered about the floor. The bed was unmade, the blankets rumpled and bunched up in piles on the mattress. The most organized thing was a bookshelf near the desk; it was filled with journals and books with titles Bokuto didn’t recognize. 

Akaashi disappeared into a small room in the corner, and a moment later Bokuto heard water running. 

“Akaashi, you have a bathroom in your _room?”_ Bokuto walked over and peered inside. 

“It’s only a half bath,” Akaashi replied around the toothbrush in his mouth. He offered one still in its package to Bokuto. “I figured you would want to brush your teeth.”

Bokuto took it and began to open the package. “It’s still a bathroom. Us poor people have to leave our rooms in the middle of the night if we have to pee.”

Akaashi found some clothes in his closet that were a little big on him and figured they would fit Bokuto well enough to sleep in. As Akaashi changed into his pajamas, Bokuto wandered over to the desk by the window and scanned his eyes over the papers. The piece on top had writing on it, some of it scribbled out, and at the bottom it looked like a poem was written there. 

“’Kaashi, can I read this?” Bokuto pointed at the paper. Akaashi nodded. 

Bokuto picked it up and observed the words that had been written down then scribbled out. His eyes drifted down the page until he came to the poem. 

_Stars are born from collapse._  
_Gravity pulls deep, then a spark,_  
_then an explosion of light._

_You are an explosion, too._  
_An explosion of joy and warmth,_  
_of wonder and triumph._

_You are my star._

Bokuto read the lines over and over again. He didn’t know much about poetry, but he did know a lot of poetry was written about love. It felt like he was reading a love letter.

Akaashi came to stand next to him and wrapped his arms around Bokuto’s waist. He leaned against him and read the poem too. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s really beautiful,” Bokuto replied. He meant it. “When did you write this?”

“A couple days ago.”

“Is it about anyone?”

Akaashi plucked the paper from Bokuto’s hand and set it back on the desk. He clicked the lamp off and turned back to Bokuto, bringing his hands to his hair in the dark. He drug his fingers through the strands and brought their noses together. “It’s about you, silly.”

Bokuto was glad it was dark, because if the fire in his cheeks was any indication for how red he was, Akaashi would probably laugh at him. Akaashi kissed him, and it was slow and tentative, almost like he was asking Bokuto if it were okay he’d written poetry about him. Bokuto recalled the conversation they’d had about Akaashi finding inspiration, and he remembered Akaashi’s simple _I have_ response; Bokuto had never anticipated that _he_ would be that inspiration. 

The thought filled him with so much joy that he felt like he was buzzing. He pulled Akaashi close to him by the waist and returned the kiss fervently. He wanted Akaashi to know that he could think of no greater honor than to give him a reason to write again. And even more, Bokuto wanted him to know just how thankful he was that Akaashi had shared a piece of himself like that.

Akaashi hummed softly and ran his tongue along Bokuto’s bottom lip. As always, Bokuto was awed by Akaashi’s quiet confidence, how he could so effortlessly and shamelessly allow himself to seek after what he wanted. It was a wonder that he struggled with making decisions about his life at all. 

But in that moment, Akaashi wasn’t struggling with any decisions or choices. He pressed his lips more fervently against Bokuto’s, pushing his mouth open and seeking the warmness of tongue touching tongue. Bokuto welcomed it, letting the hands resting on Akaashi’s slim hips slide up his loose shirt, skirting his fingers along the smooth, soft skin he found there. 

Bokuto felt Akaashi shiver against him, and then his hands were leaving Bokuto’s hair and trailing down his arms. Akaashi tugged, pulling Bokuto along with him as he stepped slowly backward, never letting their lips part. Finally, the backs of Akaashi’s knees met his bed, and they tumbled onto the mattress. Their lips separated during the fall, and Akaashi sought to reconnect them. Before he could, though, Bokuto dipped his head to pepper gentle kisses along the tender skin underneath Akaashi’s jaw. 

Akaashi pushed at Bokuto’s shoulders to coax him up, grabbing the hem of Bokuto’s shirt as soon as he did and pulling it off him. He scooted further up the mattress, pulling Bokuto with him. He came to a rest between Akaashi’s legs and tugged Akaashi’s shirt off. Then he dipped his head again to drag his lips along Akaashi’s bare chest. 

Neither of them spoke, but Bokuto was sure that even if they did, the words would only be muffled by the blood rushing in his ears. His lower stomach tensed when Akaashi drug his hands up his back, tangling his fingers in Bokuto’s hair and tugging on the strands gently. Bokuto felt incredibly warm, feverish almost, but he shivered nonetheless when Akaashi moaned quietly beneath him. 

Bokuto pressed kisses across Akaashi’s body. He was delighted by the little details of his skin that he was granted permission to memorize: the tiny scar on Akaashi’s collarbone, the dark birthmark near his navel, the hidden freckles that were sprinkled across his hips. Bokuto wanted to worship all of these features and every other part of Akaashi. 

Akaashi tugged on Bokuto’s hair again, harder this time, coaxing him up to press their lips together. He tipped his hips and pushed Bokuto over, forcing him to lay on his back and straddling him. Bokuto hummed softly as Akaashi slid his fingertips down Bokuto’s torso, lingering over his hard stomach muscles, then followed his hands’ wake with his lips, lighting Bokuto’s skin on fire. 

The blood that had previously been muffling his ears and warming his cheeks had traveled down, leaving Bokuto with a clouded mind that could only focus on the way Akaashi’s lips felt against his stomach and hips. Every kiss was like a jolt of lightning through his body. He groaned when Akaashi stopped and crawled back up, barely grazing their lips together as he reached for something in his bedside table. 

Bokuto’s mind was suddenly as crystal clear as the ocean water they spent their days next to when he heard a familiar crinkle of packaging and a snap of a bottle cap. Akaashi had pressed their lips together again lazily, and Bokuto grinned against them. 

“’Kaashi, you’re not as innocent as I thought.”

“Shut up.”

The flippant thought that maybe Bokuto should be the one helping Akaashi prepare himself crossed his mind, but Akaashi seemed like he knew exactly what he was doing. Bokuto only sat up slightly to press more heated kisses into Akaashi’s neck, trailing his lips along the smooth skin and sucking gently. He tried his best to keep his enthusiasm in check, sure that Akaashi wouldn’t appreciate red and purple bruises on his skin for his family and all the world to see. 

Then, Akaashi’s fingernails were digging into the skin on Bokuto’s shoulders, and Bokuto was gripping Akaashi’s hips like his life depended on it. And perhaps, he thought, his life might actually depend upon it because the heat between them might just send Bokuto into an early grave. He continued to press sloppy kisses into Akaashi’s skin, grazing his teeth just barely along the tender flesh of his neck. Akaashi clung to him, whimpering softly. 

Bokuto ached for more; more heat, more friction, more soft noises. He pulled Akaashi against himself and flipped them, tangling their fingers together. Akaashi sunk against the mattress and squeezed their joined hands, using the other to cup Bokuto’s cheek and pull him into a fervent kiss. Bokuto felt every emotion he could think of all at once. It was overwhelming, and in any other moment, he may have started crying. He resisted, however, terrified that it would worry Akaashi. 

Instead, he just kissed him with so much passion that he wouldn’t be shocked if their lips were bruised the next day. Thinking became increasingly more difficult, and Akaashi had to pull away from their kiss and cover his mouth and nose with his hand in an attempt to muffle the noises he was making. Bokuto buried his face into Akaashi’s neck and bit his own lip, trying to stifle his own sounds. 

Suddenly, Akaashi bucked beneath him, arching his back off the mattress. After a moment, he shuddered and sunk back down, panting into his hand like he’d just run a marathon. There was an explosion of white behind Bokuto’s eyes, and pleasure rocked his body like waves rocked the sea. He slumped against Akaashi, grimacing a little at the stickiness between them, but not caring enough to move just yet. His body felt heavy and oversensitive, and he guessed Akaashi felt the same way if his trembling was any indication. 

Eventually Bokuto became uncomfortable enough to sit up. Akaashi groaned when Bokuto pulled him up with him, coaxing him into the bathroom. He clung to Bokuto as he wet a small towel with warm water to clean them both up. Akaashi pressed lazy kisses into Bokuto’s shoulder and nuzzled him sweetly as he worked, then allowed Bokuto to carry him back to the bed. 

Bokuto found their discarded clothing and tossed Akaashi’s shirt to him. The combination of the dark room and his incredibly fuzzy brain left Akaashi struggling to pull his on, which elicited laughs from Bokuto as he reached over to help him. Akaashi swatted at him playfully, then pulled Bokuto down onto the mattress with him once they were both at least half clothed. Bokuto fell onto his side and tugged Akaashi close, cuddling him against his chest.

They kissed softly, still caught up in the euphoria of the moment. Then Akaashi snuggled as close as he could to Bokuto, tucking his face between Bokuto’s neck and shoulder, and soon his breathing evened out. Bokuto ran his fingers lightly up and down Akaashi’s side and back. He felt his eyelids grow heavy, and he smiled as he followed Akaashi into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: the wine bottle nonsense is based on a real life experience I had in my kitchen on a Tuesday night with my bff, @thestarsage (she's the best)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another ridiculously self-indulgent chapter.

The coolness of the air in his bedroom was what roused Akaashi from his sleep first. Then it was the soreness that traveled through his body and down his legs as he rolled over. He groaned against the pillows he had his faced buried in, tugging his blanket around his shoulders. Despite willing himself to go back to sleep, he couldn’t, so he just glared with irritation into his pillow for a few minutes. 

The events of the night prior slowly came back to him as his mind began to clear. He blushed and reached out blindly to feel for Bokuto next to him. However, he didn’t find Bokuto there. 

Akaashi sat up and looked around his room. Light filtered through his window, bright enough to indicate that it was well into the morning. He saw no Bokuto. 

He crawled out of the bed and stretched, wincing at the way his muscles pulled a bit, then padded over to his bathroom and peered inside. No Bokuto. 

Surely, surely, Bokuto wouldn’t just leave. Not after last night. And there was no way Akaashi dreamt _that._ He’d had his fair share of vivid dreams, but nothing like that. And he had the soreness and tightness to prove that it really happened. 

His mind began to race, and Akaashi wondered if something had happened. Did Kuroo or Kenma need him? What if Bokuto’s mother had called and there had been an emergency? Akaashi found his phone in the pocket of his pants from the night before and checked for any messages; there were none. 

He was still plagued with confusion and worry when he heard a laugh from downstairs. It sounded strikingly like Bokuto, but it was a little muted. Almost polite. Akaashi crept out of his bedroom and down the hall, hesitating at the top of the steps as he listened. That _was_ Bokuto laughing. And, much to Akaashi’s horror, it sounded like his dad was also laughing. 

Akaashi practically ran down the steps, sliding to a halt once he rounded the corner and entered the kitchen. Sure enough, there was Bokuto and Kaito, standing together at the counter as Kaito made pancakes on a griddle. Bokuto was watching closely and grinning, his mussed hair and sleep-rumpled clothes unfairly attractive. Akaashi pressed a hand to his flip-flopping stomach. 

_Oh no, you’re in deep,_ he thought. 

“Good morning, darling,” Aimi chirped as she passed Akaashi, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek as she entered the kitchen. 

“Oh, good morning.” Akaashi could barely muster more than a mumble for his mother. Her address and entrance drew Kaito and Bokuto’s attention to him, and Bokuto smiled at him with so much fondness that it physically hurt Akaashi. 

“Ah, you’re awake!” Kaito said, waving his spatula about. “I hope you’re in the mood for pancakes.”

Bokuto was still beaming. “I’ve never seen someone make a perfect pancake every single time, ‘Kaashi! Your dad is amazing!”

Akaashi smiled softly at him. Bokuto was so excitable, and every time he lit up like a kid on Christmas morning, even over the smallest, most insignificant thing, Akaashi fell a little harder. He was, however, a little concerned that Bokuto had somehow been coerced into helping with breakfast; Akaashi knew his father could be a little overzealous. 

“Bokuto-san, may I talk to you for a minute?” Akaashi asked, beckoning for Bokuto to follow. 

They left the kitchen to stand in the entryway where their shoes still lay from the night before. Bokuto fidgeted nervously. 

“I woke up pretty early,” he said suddenly, whispering. “Your dad knocked and came in to ask if you wanted pancakes. He didn’t seem bothered or anything that I was there. And then he asked me if I wanted to help, and it sounded kind of fun, and you looked so peaceful sleeping that I didn’t want to wake you.” Bokuto nibbled on his bottom lip. “I hope that’s okay.”

Akaashi opened his mouth to reply, but he found that he could only smile. He reached out and ran his fingers along Bokuto’s arms gently, hoping the motion would soothe the other’s sudden nervousness. It seemed to work. 

“No, that’s totally fine, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi replied. “I was mostly worried that my dad had harassed you into helping him. He gets weird sometimes.”

Bokuto smiled. “I like your dad a lot! He’s really funny and smart, and he said he’d teach me how to make crepes next Saturday.”

Akaashi chuckled and nodded. “I think that you’ll both have a lot of fun doing that. But come on, let’s go see if those pancakes are done. I’m starving.”

Their breakfast was as lively and enthusiastic as ever. Breakfast in the Akaashi household was always a fun time, but Bokuto’s added presence and enthusiasm only brightened the atmosphere that much more. He laughed loudly with Kaito and even joined him in teasing Akaashi. They talked about Bokuto’s dreams of becoming a professional volleyball player, and Aimi and Kaito rallied around Bokuto to encourage him and praise him for following his dreams. 

Akaashi watched it all with deep fondness and affection, both for his parents and for Bokuto. He couldn’t help but think that Bokuto fit in seamlessly with his family, and that made his desire to keep the older boy in his life that much stronger. That morning, watching Bokuto make equally bad dad jokes as Kaito, eating way too many pancakes, and letting Momo lick syrup off his fingers, Akaashi was finally able to come to a decision. 

After breakfast, Akaashi and Bokuto ventured back to Akaashi’s room. In its privacy, they were able to share a few intimate moments. Akaashi thought he could spend the whole day wrapped in Bokuto’s arms and do nothing else, and he would be more than content. While Bokuto showered, Akaashi thought about suggesting they do just that. But first, he wanted to tell Bokuto what he’d decided. 

Bokuto reentered Akaashi’s room with dripping hair and wearing fresh clothes that Kaito had lent him. The long sleeved shirt was a pale yellow that Akaashi didn’t know could look so good on someone. He was suddenly glad his father had stopped wearing that shirt long ago.

Akaashi was sitting at his desk, running his fingers along the words he’d scribbled out on loose sheets of paper over the many nights he’d spent awake and thinking about Bokuto. As Bokuto toweled his hair dry, he ventured over to stand behind Akaashi, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of Akaashi’s neck. 

“Whatcha thinking about?” Bokuto murmured against Akaashi’s skin. 

Akaashi leaned into the contact and hummed. “I was thinking about what I want to do for university.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Akaashi turned in his desk chair to face Bokuto. “I’m going to take the entrance exam. If I pass, I’m going to study writing and literature.”

Bokuto smiled and kissed Akaashi sweetly. “That’s great, ‘Kaashi! I know you’ll pass the exam. And,” he ran his thumb along Akaashi’s cheek, “I’m really proud of you for finally making a choice for yourself. That’s a really big step.”

Akaashi stood from his chair and wrapped his arms around Bokuto’s neck, pressing a kiss against Bokuto’s jaw. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

______________________

After taking the exam, Akaashi felt mentally and emotionally exhausted. He had hyped himself up so much beforehand that once the adrenaline faded, all Akaashi was left with was exhaustion and hunger.

He immediately went to the little house Bokuto, Kuroo, and Kenma were living in once he returned from the testing site. Bokuto wanted to pester Akaashi about the exam, he could tell, but Akaashi insisted he just needed a nap first. He fell asleep in Bokuto’s bed, curled up against the pillow that Bokuto used while Bokuto lay next to him watching volleyball videos on his phone. 

When Akaashi awoke, it was nearly dusk. Bokuto was still next to him, scrolling through his phone. He only turned his attention away from the screen when Akaashi stirred and sat up. 

“Hey, hey, Sleeping Beauty. How do you feel?”

Akaashi’s stomach grumbled before he could even open his mouth to answer. “Hungry.”

Bokuto laughed and sat up, pulling Akaashi out of the bed and to the kitchen. Kenma and Kuroo were on the couch playing video games, and Akaashi listened to them mutter back and forth about how badly the other one was playing while Bokuto searched for a suitable snack. They had leftover pizza, and Bokuto offered to heat it up, but Akaashi took a cold slice and set about devouring it. He was too hungry to waste time waiting for his food to be warm. 

“Hey,” Kuroo called from the living room. “Oikawa texted me and asked if we wanted to go roller skating tonight. Do you guys want to go?”

Akaashi stuck his head around the corner to nod at Kuroo, a new slice of pizza already in his mouth. Bokuto called back an affirmative and stared at Akaashi with an incredulous look. 

“And I thought you ate a lot of ice cream. Geez, Akaashi, slow down before you make yourself sick!”

The skating rink smelled distinctly of sweat and greasy food, coupled with loud yells, bright lights, and faded music. Akaashi didn’t usually come to the skating rink during the school year; it was used for the local ice hockey clubs to practice. In the summer, however, it was turned into a roller skating rink for the increased crowds of people. It really just made Akaashi feel like he was stepping back in time to the nineties. Oikawa loved it. 

Suga, Oikawa, and Iwaizumi were already in the rink when the rest of them arrived. They paid for their skates and found a place to sit where they could change into them. Oikawa skated up to where they sat and rolled onto the carpeted floor, sliding onto the bench where Kuroo and Kenma sat to throw himself around Kuroo.

Suga and Iwaizumi followed, though they were much more graceful about respecting personal space. Suga leaned against the table where they sat, and Iwaizumi sat on the floor with his knees pulled to his chest. 

“Do they have these kinds of skating rinks in the city?” Suga asked. 

Kuroo shrugged. “I haven’t seen any if they do. They have ice skating rinks, but roller skating sort of went out of style back when we were all kids, didn’t it?”

“They have one in that arcade that I go to sometimes,” Kenma said. He finished strapping his skates on and stood off the bench, gaining his balance on the small wheels. “It’s small though, and usually just little kids use it.”

Bokuto was rolling his skate-clad feet across the carpeted floor but not standing off the bench he and Akaashi shared. Akaashi finished securing his and stood, wobbling a bit until he gained his balance. Suga reached out and placed his hand on the small of Akaashi’s back to help steady him. Akaashi then extended a hand for Bokuto to take, and Bokuto blinked up at him.

“Come on,” Akaashi said, wiggling his fingers to encourage Bokuto to take his hand. “I bet I can beat you in a race.”

Bokuto smirked and accepted Akaashi’s hand, rising slowly from the bench. He was shaky, and he grasped Akaashi’s hand tightly. “I bet you could. I’ve never actually done this before.”

All six of them gaped at Bokuto in disbelief. 

“Bo, you’re kidding right?” Kuroo asked. 

“Never? Not even when you were a little kid?” Suga added. 

Oikawa crossed his arms and clicked his tongue. “You’ve had a sorely dull childhood, Bo-chan.”

Iwaizumi rose from his seated position and rolled back and forth slowly on his skates. “There’s no better time to learn, then. It’s like riding a bike; you’ll catch on quick.”

Kuroo stood and skated over to Bokuto, draping himself on his friend’s shoulders. “Bokuto, I totally would have taught you if you’d told me. We could have been skating to and from class all this time. We would have been like those kids on campus with the longboards, only cooler.”

Kenma rolled his eyes. “You both would have looked ridiculous and probably caused personal injuries, if not bodily harm to other students or faculty.”

Bokuto laughed. “I think Kenma’s actually right this time. That, or we would have definitely run over at least one squirrel.”

Kuroo and Bokuto shared some snickers between them that suggested to Akaashi he might not want to ask about their escapades involving any squirrels on their campus. Instead, he just smiled and tugged on Bokuto’s hand, coaxing him forward to roll into the rink. 

Bokuto was an eager student, to say the least. He clung to Akaashi for balance, but he still enthusiastically worked to gain his footing on the skates. 

Akaashi skated a circle around him as they made their way slowly around the rink. “If you feel like you’re going to fall, crouch down. It’ll help you keep your balance.”

Bokuto nodded as Oikawa and Kuroo raced past them, hollering about who was going the fastest. Kenma and Suga rolled along shortly after, chatting idly, and Iwaizumi came by a second later, content with keeping to himself. 

“How do they make it look so easy?” Bokuto marveled. He glanced down at his feet, then back at Akaashi. “You too. I mean, it’s kind of weird to have wheels on my feet. But you all make it look like it’s effortless.”

Akaashi grinned. “And you make spiking volleyballs look effortless. Everyone has their own gifts. But this is something you can learn. Keep your toes out, not in. You don’t want to trip over yourself.”

With each pass around the rink, Bokuto slowly gained more confidence. Akaashi could tell because he was starting to keep up with him instead of just letting Akaashi pull him along. Kuroo and Oikawa skated by again, but they slowed down to match pace with Akaashi and Bokuto. 

“Bo, we should race,” Kuroo insisted, panting as he tried to catch his breath. 

“I don’t know if he’s ready for that,” Oikawa chided, eyeing Kuroo mischievously. 

Akaashi leaned over and cupped his hand around his mouth, but he didn’t even try to whisper what he was saying. “Don’t fall for it, Bokuto-san. Oikawa just knows you’ll win because you’re such a talented athlete. I mean, you’re a natural at this.”

Bokuto immediately puffed up with confidence and let go of Akaashi’s hand, rolling forward to come nose to nose with Oikawa. “You’re on.”

In a flash, all three boys took off. Kenma and Suga rolled up to stand next to Akaashi as they watched them race away. Iwaizumi skated past and rolled his eyes. 

“Did you just encourage Bokuto to race?” Suga asked, a hint of incredulity in his tone. 

Akaashi nodded. “He’s fine. He probably would have never let go of my hand if I didn’t encourage him like that.” He turned and skated backward to watch Bokuto’s path before spinning back around. “Besides, I really want to see him beat Oikawa.”

Suga laughed and Kenma grinned. The three of them continued to skate around the rink, at one point getting lapped by Bokuto, Kuroo, and Oikawa. Bokuto was beaming, his golden eyes alight with glee as he rolled by. 

Akaashi was nearing the table where they had all their belongings, and he was planning on stepping out of the rink and taking a break to get some water. He was slowing to a stop when Iwaizumi skated by, frantically calling his name. Akaashi looked over his shoulder to see Iwaizumi pointing behind them, a shout of warning on his lips. 

Before he could vocalize it, however, and before Akaashi could register what was about to happen, something hard and heavy collided with him. He tumbled to the floor of the rink, his elbow bouncing off the surface harshly, and Akaashi winced at the pain as the body that had just wrecked into him collapsed on top of him. 

There was a flurry of voices asking _Are you okay?_ and _Are you hurt?_ all at once, but the most immediate sound Akaashi heard was Bokuto’s hearty laugh. Akaashi realized it was Bokuto who was on top of him when he felt his shoulders shaking and Bokuto’s stomach shuddering against him. Akaashi looked up, blinking at Bokuto’s laughing face. 

“’Kaashi, I am so sorry!” Bokuto choked out between gasps of laughter. “I didn’t know how to stop!”

There was nothing inherently funny about the situation, but Akaashi found himself dissolving into a fit of giggles nonetheless. His elbow ached and Bokuto was heavy, but the way he was shaking with laughter was nothing short of contagious. Akaashi placed his hands on Bokuto’s shoulders and pulled him closer, showering his face with short, sweet kisses as he giggled along with Bokuto. 

“I can’t believe no one thought to teach him to stop,” Iwaizumi muttered, shaking his head at the scene unfolding before all of them.

Akaashi continued to giggle and kiss Bokuto’s face, earning a few nuzzles from the other as he recovered from his laughing fit. He sat back and pulled Akaashi up with him, inspecting his reddened elbow. 

“I am so sorry,” Bokuto repeated, though his tone was still laced with amusement. “Let’s get some ice for that.”

“Oh, come here.” Akaashi pulled Bokuto to him by his cheeks, planting a firm kiss on his lips. Bokuto hummed and leaned into it, smiling against Akaashi’s lips. 

“Oh, gross,” Kuroo groaned, shoving lightly at Bokuto’s shoulder. 

Oikawa rolled his eyes. “Get a room.” 

Suga and Kenma snickered, and Iwaizumi looked at everything but the two boys kissing on the floor. Finally, Akaashi and Bokuto seemed satisfied for the moment, and Kuroo hooked his arms under Bokuto’s to hoist him to his feet. Suga helped Akaashi up, and they went to sit at their table. Bokuto rushed off (sans roller skates) to get a bag of ice for Akaashi’s elbow, then fussed over him for a good fifteen minutes until Akaashi managed to convince him that he was fine. 

Kenma and Kuroo came back with snacks. After nibbling on some and chatting, Iwaizumi and Oikawa went back into the rink. Oikawa insisted on holding Iwaizumi’s hand, and as they skated away, Akaashi thought he heard Oikawa whining about Iwaizumi “never kissing him like that in public.” Iwaizumi only smiled and pecked Oikawa on the cheek. Oikawa seemed pleased and satisfied. 

Kenma and Suga coaxed Bokuto back into the rink on the promise that they would teach him how to stop on his skates. They didn’t travel far from where Akaashi and Kuroo were sitting. Akaashi’s elbow ached enough that he didn’t feel like getting back in the rink, and Kuroo was sipping on a red slushie. 

Akaashi watched with fondness as Kenma held Bokuto’s hands and Suga manually moved Bokuto’s feet around to show him how to stop. Bokuto nodded eagerly, watching closely as Suga showed him what to do. Kenma began to pull Bokuto along a little faster, then let go of his hands. Both Kenma and Suga encouraged Bokuto to try stopping, but he tripped over his own foot and fell with an unceremonious huff onto his butt. Kenma giggled as Suga helped Bokuto up to try again. 

The whole scene warmed Akaashi to his core, and he couldn’t help but smile. He thought back to the morning he’d woken up to find Bokuto downstairs in the kitchen with his father learning how to make pancakes. He thought about the promise his father had made about teaching Bokuto to make crepes, and how Bokuto had stayed over the following Friday night so Akaashi’s father could make good on that promise. 

He thought about how later that day, Akaashi’s father had walked Bokuto around the perimeter of the pool and the lawn and taught him all about how to care for them. And how Bokuto had listened intently, soaking in every word Kaito said to him like it was life-saving information. And he thought about how Bokuto had readily accepted all the love and encouragement and positivity that Akaashi’s parents had showered upon him. 

Akaashi thought about how Bokuto had never gotten to do things like learn how to make elaborate breakfast foods with and for his family. He’d never had someone to teach him about things like taking care of pools and yards, or someone to take him roller skating and teach him how to stop. Akaashi had learned all of those things from his father, and he had learned even more that, until now, he had always assumed everyone else experienced too.

Watching Bokuto laugh and experience things for the first time, even if he kept messing up and kept falling down and burnt the first three crepes he tried to make, was one of the most rewarding things Akaashi had ever witnessed.

Perhaps that’s why he had burned with irritation when Oikawa had chided about Bokuto’s childhood being dull. Akaashi knew Oikawa meant it in good nature, which was why he had refrained from saying anything. It wasn’t like Oikawa knew the way Bokuto had grown up. Akaashi barely knew himself, just the little tidbit that Bokuto had given him however many weeks ago. 

“I’m glad I brought him here with Kenma and I.” 

Akaashi had almost forgotten Kuroo was there, and he turned to see the other watching Bokuto just as he had been. Kuroo was smiling softly, not his usual Cheshire Cat grin. He tore his gaze away from Bokuto to glance sideways at Akaashi. 

“He never takes breaks, you know? Even during the semester, he works two jobs on top of his classes. I wanted him to just relax for once,” he said. 

Akaashi nodded and looked back at Bokuto. He didn’t really know what to say, so he just opted to say nothing at all. Bokuto was doing better on his skates now, and he and Suga were practicing starting and stopping. 

“I’m glad he got to meet you, too.” Kuroo stood from his seat. “I think Keiko would have really liked him.” He was quiet for a moment. “I never told you how sorry I am about what happened.”

Akaashi gave Kuroo a sad smile, but the mention of his sister’s death didn’t hurt nearly as bad as it used to. He wondered when that had changed.

Kuroo rolled back into the rink, sidling up to Bokuto and grabbing his arm to pull him along. Akaashi didn’t join them, opting instead to nurse his sore elbow, but every time Bokuto passed him, he would wave enthusiastically and blow him obnoxious air kisses. Akaashi always caught and returned them.


	11. Chapter 11

The air inside _Momo’s_ was, perhaps, colder than the air outside. Akaashi was accustomed to the chill of the ice cream parlor, but he still shivered when he was hit with a blast of cold air as he entered. He wondered if he should have worn jeans instead of shorts. 

He rubbed his upper arms for some warmth as he walked over to the thermostat and turned the air conditioning down. When he turned to face the counter, he expected to find Bokuto there waiting for him. However, he found Kuroo leaning over the register, scrolling through something on his phone. Akaashi paused and checked the time. He wasn’t abnormally early, so there was no reason for Kuroo to be there. 

“Where is Bokuto-san?” he asked.

Kuroo glanced up at Akaashi from under his mop of bedhead, quirking an eyebrow. “You could say something like ‘Hi, Kuroo-san’ or ‘Nice to see you, Kuroo-san’ instead of just demanding answers from me right away.”

Akaashi frowned. “I never call you ‘Kuroo-san.’”

“Not my point, but I digress.” Kuroo straightened and rolled his shoulders. “I’m covering for Bo today.”

“He called off? Is everything okay?”

Kuroo grimaced and nibbled on his bottom lip, avoiding eye contact with Akaashi. “Um, he will be. I think.” He sighed. “He’s not having a good day, so I offered to cover for him.”

“Something didn’t happen to his mom, right?” Akaashi wanted to pretend like he wasn’t ready to bolt out the door of the ice cream shop and run to the vacation house to find out what was wrong with Bokuto.

“No, no,” Kuroo shook his head rapidly, “his mom is fine. Look, how about you just come over tonight after work? There’s nothing we can do right now, but I’m sure seeing you would cheer him up a bit.”

The shift was slow and frustrating. Akaashi didn’t mind working with Kuroo – it wasn’t the first time he’d done so – but the cloud of worry looming over both of them was heavy. Kuroo wasn’t his usual talkative self; instead he constantly checked his phone and watched the clock. Akaashi glanced over Kuroo’s shoulder at one point and saw he was texting Kenma, asking how Bokuto was doing. Akaashi wasn’t able to read any of Kenma’s responses. 

Akaashi tried texting Bokuto, but he got no response. He’d wondered that morning why he hadn’t seen any of the boys from the vacation house on the beach, but he’d passed it off, assuming they had all stayed up too late playing video games to come play sand volleyball before work. Akaashi had just spent the morning hours with Oikawa and Suga since he knew he’d see Bokuto at work. 

After what seemed like a lifetime had passed, Akaashi and Kuroo were finally able to begin performing closing duties. Akaashi ushered Kuroo out of _Momo’s_ a whole two minutes before they were actually closed, insisting that closing a few minutes early wouldn’t kill anyone. Kuroo didn’t argue.

They walked back to the vacation home in silence. Kenma was watching a movie in the living room when they entered, curled up under a blanket with a cup of tea. He glanced over at Kuroo and Akaashi.

“Bokuto is in his room,” he mumbled.

“Has he come out at all?” Kuroo asked.

Kenma shook his head. “I took him something to eat a few hours ago, but he didn’t say anything to me.”

Kuroo sighed. “I’m going to call his mom and make sure she knows he’s okay. He probably hasn’t talked to her all day. Akaashi, you should go see him.”

Akaashi took a step toward the room but paused. “Can someone please tell me what’s going on?”

Kenma and Kuroo exchanged silent glances. Then Kenma let out a quiet huff of breath and looked at Akaashi.

“He got a call from the national team this morning.”

Akaashi’s stomach dropped to his feet. He didn’t need them to say anything more; he just turned and made his way down the hallway. He tapped softly on Bokuto’s door, waiting briefly for a response, then turned the knob and pushed the door open.

It was dark inside. The only light that entered the room was from the glow of the living room lights, which only served to barely illuminate the heap of blankets on the small bed in the corner. Akaashi used the faint light to quickly assess the path to the bed, ensuring he wouldn’t trip over anything in the dark, then closed the door behind him. He walked slowly across the room, one hand extended out low in front of him, until his fingertips touched the mattress. He was able to guide himself to the edge of the bed from there.

If Bokuto noticed him enter the room or sit on the bed, he made no effort to acknowledge Akaashi. The mound of blankets never moved or made a sound, even when Akaashi reached over and placed his hand there gently. He could feel Bokuto’s warmth radiating from underneath them.

“Bokuto-san.” He kept his voice at a whisper.

Bokuto didn’t answer, but Akaashi felt him shift. He rolled over under the blankets and pulled them down from his head. Akaashi couldn’t make out any distinct features in the dark, but he was able to discern where Bokuto’s face was. When he pressed his hand to the older boy’s cheek, he could tell that his skin was wet with tears.

The feeling of helplessness that gripped Akaashi’s heart suffocated him. He felt like he was standing on the shore and Bokuto was in a boat in the middle of the ocean. A small hole had been blown in the boat’s bottom, but Akaashi had no way of getting to Bokuto or helping him once he got out there. The only thing Akaashi could think to do was encourage Bokuto to get out of the sinking boat. Perhaps he could meet him halfway. That was better than doing nothing, at least.

Akaashi ran his thumb over Bokuto’s cheek, trying to wipe away the wetness that was there. “Bokuto-san, do you want to go for a walk?”

He didn’t say anything, but Akaashi felt Bokuto nod slowly. Then he was sitting up, dragging his legs out of the bed and standing. Akaashi rose to follow him, and they exited the bedroom together. He couldn’t see Bokuto’s face but judging by the sympathetic look Kuroo shot him when they entered the living room, Akaashi guessed that Bokuto looked a mess.

Bokuto didn’t seem to care that his hair was mussed and falling in his face, or that he was still wearing wrinkled pajamas. He simply stepped into his sandals and walked out of the house. Akaashi followed silently.

They didn’t speak at all as they made their way down the sidewalk. Bokuto was leading, taking them in the direction of the beach. Akaashi wondered if Bokuto found comfort in the dark waves or if it was just muscle memory carrying him there. When they made it to the sand, Bokuto kicked off his sandals and trudged toward the water. He was moving pointedly away from the sand pits and the small pockets of people still lingering on the beach. When he reached a spot near the pier, the very spot Akaashi usually sat when he watched the sunrise each day, Bokuto plopped into the sand and stared out at the black water.

From the dim lights that illuminated the sand pits, Akaashi could finally see Bokuto’s face. His cheeks were splotchy, dried tears staining the usually clear skin. His mouth was set in a soft, straight line, which was more unsettling than if he had been frowning. His eyes were rimmed with red, slightly swollen and glassy, and they were dull. It was the first time since he’d met Bokuto that Akaashi saw those mini suns cease their shining.

Akaashi didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if he needed to say anything at all. It was obvious that Bokuto was grieving, and Akaashi knew all about that. He knew, also, that sometimes you don’t need someone to talk while you mourn; sometimes you just needed someone to be with you. He slipped his hand into Bokuto’s and waited.

They sat quietly for some time, listening only to the gentle push and pull of the waves. The water bubbled and splashed against the pier, but the ocean was particularly calm. It was almost as if it knew of Bokuto’s melancholy and was trying to be respectful. Akaashi wasn’t sure how much time had passed before Bokuto finally spoke.

“I didn’t make the national team.” His voice was scratchy and hoarse from emotion and disuse.

“I’m so sorry, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi squeezed Bokuto’s hand.

Bokuto pulled his knees to his chest and dropped his head against them. “They said that I’m very talented, but I don’t have what they’re looking for right now.” A moment of silence passed, then Bokuto pulled his hand out of Akaashi’s. He dug his fingers into the sand and came back with a large clump of it. With a shout, Bokuto threw the sand at the dark ocean before them. The only indication that anything happened to the sand was the heavy plopping sound it made as it hit the waves.

Akaashi sat helplessly in his spot as Bokuto stood and kicked at the sand. He watched the older boy kick his way down the beach until he heard splashing. Akaashi could still see Bokuto, but he didn’t want him to go any further into the water, especially in the dark. He rose to his feet and padded down the beach, reaching out to grab Bokuto’s wrist.

Bokuto didn’t fight against Akaashi; instead, he just sunk down where he stood and buried his face in his hands. Akaashi dropped to his knees next to him and leaned against Bokuto’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around the older boy. The tide raced up the sand, soaking both of their legs and shorts.

There were many things Akaashi could think of saying in that moment. He could tell Bokuto that he deserved to make the national team, because he did. Akaashi really believed that. He could tell Bokuto that another opportunity would come along; he believed that, too. Bokuto was incredibly talented, and Akaashi wanted to tell him that someone would recognize that talent someday and _beg_ Bokuto to be on their team.

He could tell him all of those things, and probably more, but the truth was that none of those words would lessen the pain of rejection. Nothing Akaashi could say would alleviate the weight of failure and defeat that was sitting on Bokuto’s shoulders. So he said nothing. He just held Bokuto more tightly as his shoulders shook from the sobs that escaped his throat.

Akaashi shifted to sit, resigning himself to having soaked shorts for the night. Bokuto reached over and grasped Akaashi’s hand. He leaned against Akaashi, wiping away tears from his cheeks miserably.

“I don’t know how to tell my mom,” Bokuto whispered. He sounded like a child who had accidentally broken his mother’s favorite flower vase and was now afraid of getting in trouble.

It confused Akaashi. “Bokuto-san, I don’t think she will be upset with you or anything.”

Bokuto shook his head and rubbed at his eyes some more. “It’s not that. She won’t be upset. She supports me no matter what. But this was supposed to be the one. This was supposed to be the time I got to tell her all our problems are fixed, and she doesn’t have to worry anymore.” His voice was thick with tears again.

He sat up and ran his hands through his hair. Akaashi watched him, heart aching over the dullness in Bokuto’s eyes. Bokuto stared at nothing and pressed his lips together tightly. Tears overflowed and rolled down his cheeks.

“Before my dad walked out, my mom didn’t even have a job.” Bokuto’s words were tight, like he was fighting against an invisible force. “When he left, we moved out of our house because it was too expensive. And she still had to get three different jobs just to pay for the tiny apartment we live in. In all these years, she’s never once complained or blamed me for her life falling apart.”

Akaashi frowned. “Bokuto-san, it’s not your fault that your dad left. You were just a child.”

Bokuto’s mouth morphed into a bitter smile. “He decided he didn’t want to be a dad. Whether that’s my fault or not, it doesn’t really matter. He still walked away from my mom, and she didn’t deserve that. She had every right to blame me, but she never did.” He wiped his tears away again. “I just want to be able to take care of her the way she’s always taken care of me. I want her to be able to go on vacations and not have to choose between paying a power bill and buying enough groceries for both of us. Do you know how many times my mom didn’t eat dinner because we didn’t have enough? I never went hungry, Akaashi, but she did.”

The way Bokuto’s voice broke crumbled Akaashi’s heart. He felt a physical pain in his stomach as he listened, as if he had been punched. It wasn’t like Bokuto had kept the condition of his homelife private, but the realization that it was _so much worse_ than he had ever let on shocked Akaashi. He was simultaneously overwhelmed with feelings of immense sympathy for their pain and jaw-dropping awe at their resilience.

“She’s worked so hard, and she still does. She deserves so much more than she has ever been given.” Bokuto didn’t try to wipe his tears away this time. “I just want to make her happy and I want her to be proud of me.”

Of all the things Bokuto had said so far, it was this that spurred Akaashi to action. “Bokuto, look at me.” When he didn’t, Akaashi grabbed Bokuto’s cheeks and forced him to turn his head. “I said look at me.”

Bokuto looked broken and miserable. He looked defeated. Akaashi had to steel himself against his own emotions before he continued.

“I don’t know your mother, but I know you. And you are the most selfless, kind, hard-working person I have ever met.” Akaashi dropped his hands from Bokuto’s cheeks. “I believe with my whole heart that your mother already is and will always be proud of you no matter what you do. I know that I am proud of you, and I will always be proud of you. If I can feel that way, imagine how your mother – who literally _raised_ you – feels?”

Bokuto lowered his eyes to look at the sand. He ran his finger through it slowly. “I feel like a failure.”

“You’re not a failure.” Akaashi reached up to tuck some of Bokuto’s wildly unruly hair back, trying to coax forth the bright, energetic, loving boy that he had come to adore. “Someone once told me that we make plans for our lives, but they don’t always turn out that way. Things happen that we don’t expect, but we push forward anyway. And each decision we make gets easier because we know that we did it before.”

Finally, _finally,_ Akaashi earned a small smile from Bokuto. It was faint, only the slightest twitch at the corners of his mouth, but it was there. Akaashi scooted closer to Bokuto and pulled him into a hug. Bokuto curled around him, dropping his head to Akaashi’s shoulder and pressing his face against his neck.

“Things didn’t go the way you planned, that’s all,” Akaashi whispered. “But someday they will.”

______________________

Akaashi stared at the sinking sun as it disappeared behind the sea. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do when he didn’t have the ocean to say good morning and goodnight to each day. He supposed he would have to find a new ritual to greet and bid farewell to Keiko.

But change was necessary if he wanted to move on. And he knew his sister wouldn’t want him to spend the rest of his life staring at the spot where she died and neglecting his own dreams. He stood from that spot and sighed, dusting the sand from his legs.

_Besides,_ he thought, _today isn’t about sadness or goodbyes._

He walked up the beach, passing by his friends. Each of them were preparing for their goodbyes as well, but none of them were focused on it. They were laughing and joking, enjoying the last gathering they would have for a while. 

How lucky Akaashi was that he wouldn’t have to say goodbye to the one who mattered most. At least not quite yet. 

Akaashi bypassed his friends to grab the satchel he had brought with him, digging through it until he found the little package hidden inside. He walked over to the large bonfire, situated not far from where Iwaizumi had his sound system hooked up, and lowered himself into the sand next to Bokuto. 

“I know that Kuroo will yell at me for giving this to you before we hold the official celebration, but it’s something a little more private.” Akaashi pressed the wrapped package into Bokuto’s hands. “Happy birthday.”

Bokuto smiled softly and began to pick at the tape, peeling off the corner of the packaging. The colorful paper fell away to reveal a small, leather-bound journal. Its cover had an intricate design embroidered into it, and it was held shut by a little leather tie. Bokuto glanced up at Akaashi. 

“Can I open it?”

“Of course. It’s yours.”

Bokuto unfastened the tie gingerly, as if it would crumble at his fingertips if he moved too quickly. Akaashi watched as Bokuto opened the cover and peered at the pages. He knew what was inside; he’d written the words there, after all. 

The first page had a quote scrawled on it in elegant, slanted handwriting.

_We are waves of the same sea, leaves of the same tree, flowers of the same garden._  
_– Seneca_

“Who is Seneca?” Bokuto asked.

“He was a Roman philosopher. But that doesn’t really matter. I just like that quote,” Akaashi replied. Then he nudged Bokuto’s shoulder with his own. “Turn the page.”

Bokuto did, then paused to read the writing there. Akaashi watched his face, more interested in his reaction than what was written. He watched Bokuto read the words, then again, and then again. Bokuto brushed his fingers over the date scrawled in the top corner, then looked at Akaashi with shiny eyes. 

“Is this…?”

Akaashi nodded. “I thought you should have it. You were my inspiration to start writing again, after all. I didn’t fill the pages, so you can add to it. If you want, I mean.”

Bokuto leaned over and kissed Akaashi tenderly. There was comfort in knowing that, come Sunday, they didn’t have to say goodbye to each other. Come Sunday, Akaashi would board the train with Bokuto, Kuroo, and Kenma. He would travel with them back to Tokyo, where he would begin his first year at the University of Tokyo. He would get to kiss Bokuto every single day. He didn’t need a journal to keep track of his days with Bokuto anymore, because his entire life would be saturated with him. 

The journal lay open on Bokuto’s lap, the page turned to the first journal entry Akaashi had written since his sister had drowned. 

_July 24th,_  
_Today I met a star in human form._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess this chapter technically has spoilers if you don't read the manga? The entire scenario is nowhere near what actually happens, but some details are canon (like the team and the people on it). Anyway, just a fair warning

Bokuto zipped his travel bag closed with an air of finality. Glancing around one more time, he ensured that he had left nothing behind. Then he crossed the room and exited.

Kuroo and Kenma were standing in the foyer, both shouldering their own bags. Kenma was playing a game on his phone, but Kuroo flashed Bokuto a smile. “Ready?”

Bokuto nodded. 

They retraced the path they had taken from the train station that July day when they had first arrived. When they arrived at the platform, Akaashi was waiting for them. He was sitting on a bench, fiddling with his fingers, looking out at the ocean. 

“I’m surprised your parents aren’t here,” Kuroo said to Akaashi as they approached him. 

“They were here just a little bit ago, but I told them I would be okay,” Akaashi replied. He stood and hugged Bokuto as if they hadn’t spent the previous evening together packing Akaashi’s things.

“Are you excited to see Tokyo?” Bokuto asked. He bounced a little on his heels and planted a kiss on Akaashi’s forehead. 

Kenma rolled his eyes. “It’s really not that great. It’s loud and crowded.”

“It’s not that bad,” Kuroo countered, nudging Kenma. 

Akaashi breathed a soft laugh. “I’ve seen Tokyo before. I was just young. But yes, I am excited.”

Bokuto grinned and kissed Akaashi’s forehead again. Kuroo bounced on his feet suddenly and held up his phone. 

“Oh, oh, Oikawa sent me a snapchat. Look.” He held his phone out for them all to see the picture. It was Oikawa, Suga, and Iwaizumi on a train themselves. Oikawa was sprawled across Iwaizumi’s lap, Iwaizumi was trying not to laugh, and Suga was leaning in the frame of the picture, giving a peace sign. 

Kuroo clicked out of the picture and tapped the screen to the front-facing camera. He held it up so the frame captured all four of them. “Say cheese!”

“Poor Iwaizumi,” Kenma muttered after the picture was taken. “He has to go to the same school as Oikawa _and_ Suga.”

“Rumor has it they’re all sharing an apartment this year, too,” Akaashi chided. 

Kenma shuddered. “He’ll never sleep again.”

“Don’t worry, Akaashi,” Kuroo cooed, draping an arm around Akaashi’s shoulders, “Kenma and I keep a quiet household.”

“Unless Bokuto comes over,” Kenma muttered. 

“Hey, hey, I respect your quiet space when you’re studying,” Bokuto said, pursing his lips in a pout. 

Kuroo grinned. “Bo, I still think you should move in with us. I’m going to be living with a grandma and grandpa. My life will be so boring!”

Akaashi and Kenma glared at Kuroo, and Bokuto just laughed. “Sorry, but I need to stay home and help my mom with the bills. You can always come over, though.”

“Except when I’m there,” Akaashi added, sliding out from underneath Kuroo’s arm and tucking himself to Bokuto’s side. He grinned at Kuroo, who just made a fake gagging sound. 

Bokuto laughed again, but it was cut short when he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. He pulled it out, expecting to see his mother’s contact information, but found that it was an unknown number instead. Frowning slightly, he answered. 

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Bokuto Koutarou?” The voice on the other line was unfamiliar.

“Yes.” Bokuto took a few steps away from his friends, trying to distance himself from the noise of the train platform. 

“Good afternoon, Bokuto-kun. My name is Samson Foster; I am the head coach of the Black Jackals. We’re a division one team in Japan’s V-League. Is this a good time to speak?”

Bokuto thought his heart was going to pound out of his chest. “Yes! Yes, this is a good time. It’s nice to uh, meet you. Er, talk to you, I guess.”

The coach laughed heartily. “The same goes to you. Listen, Bokuto-kun, I know that you tried out for Japan’s national team, but you didn’t make it. Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir,” Bokuto replied. The fact still stung a little, but he ignored it. 

“Well, that’s a shame for them because I was there. I saw you play, and let me say, you are impressive.”

“Thank you so much!” Bokuto felt his cheeks warm, and he glanced over at his friends. Akaashi, Kuroo, and even Kenma were eyeing him suspiciously.

“However, I believe that their loss can be the Black Jackals’ gain,” Samson Foster continued. “I’ve spoken with the other coaches and with the current team captain, and we all agreed that we would love to have you come visit and play a bit with our team. We believe you would be a great addition to the Black Jackals, and we want to see how you fit in with us. As long as everything goes well, we want to offer you an official position on the team. Does that sound like something you would like to do?”

If he hadn’t been on the phone with his perspective coach, Bokuto may have started crying. He held it together, though, and composed himself before he answered. “Yes, Coach. I would be honored.”

“Great! I can email you the address of our gym. I know it’s short notice, but could you come in say… Tuesday?”

_First day of classes be damned,_ Bokuto thought. “Yes, I can do that.”

The coach made a pleased sound. “Wonderful. I’ll send you the address and the details. I look forward to meeting you in person, Bokuto-kun.”

“Thank you. I look forward to meeting you, too.” Bokuto thanked the coach one more time before they ended the call. He stared at his phone in awe, barely able to compute what had just happened. 

His friends continued to stare at him cautiously. Akaashi approached Bokuto first. “Bokuto-san, is everything okay?”

“That was the head coach of a V-League team,” Bokuto said. He looked up from the phone in his hand. “They want me to come meet the team. They want me to be on their team.”

Bokuto was suddenly surrounded by his friends. Kuroo was shouting something, but then he ruffled Bokuto’s hair and hugged him tightly. Akaashi had practically leapt into Bokuto’s arms, and he was smothering his face with sweet little kisses. Even Kenma had rushed over to hug Bokuto, congratulating him. 

“I told you,” Akaashi whispered into Bokuto’s ear. He kissed his cheek again. “I told you.”

______________________

It’s true that people make plans for their lives. They have a vision for their futures; they strive to achieve goals and dreams in order to lead the lives they wish to lead.

It was also true that things happen outside of those plans. Situations change, and things happen that no one anticipates. It causes the plans that people make to go off the rails sometimes. Whether that’s good or bad depends on who you ask. 

Bokuto had made plans for his life. He’d dreamt of becoming a professional volleyball player since he was just a child, and he had planned on making that dream a reality. It had been difficult for him when his father had walked away. That was the first change in plans he’d experienced. 

Nevertheless, he had persisted and worked toward his goals. Life had been different than he had pictured it as a child, but he had made it work. That was all he knew how to do, and it had never failed him. He had been accepted into the high school he wanted, he had made it into the University of Tokyo, and he had even made it onto the volleyball team at the university. 

His plan had been moving along easily, gliding down the tracks without a hitch. Then the plan changed again when he had been rejected from the national team. 

That blow had been, arguably, worse than his father leaving. At least when his father had left, Bokuto had just started to work toward his dreams. It was much easier to adjust his course when he had just begun. But when he was rejected, Bokuto was already well into his path. Changing course then seemed impossible. Not only did it seem impossible, but it seemed pointless. It felt fruitless to keep trying, to keep fixing the rails and realigning and keep moving forward. 

What if it happened again?

But now Bokuto knew that life had a funny way of throwing you off course just so it could take you somewhere better. 

Joining the Black Jackals was everything Bokuto could have ever wanted. It was difficult, for sure. His life changed drastically in a short period of time. Where he thought he would continue spending his days in classes that were only mildly interesting, he began spending them with people who loved volleyball just as much as he did. He practiced constantly, honing his skills and growing more than he ever thought possible. 

Where he thought he would have to balance schooling and jobs again, he was able to support his mother so much that she quit two of her jobs. He saw the life in her eyes return, and he was able to help her save enough money to move out of the tiny apartment he’d practically grown up in and move to a small house in the suburbs of Tokyo. 

Where he thought he would spend the rest of his days longing for something more, for a better way to live his life and follow his dreams, he began living out his dreams. He woke up every day and played volleyball. He helped his team win, and win, and win. He became a recognizable face; people knew who he was and admired him. 

The plans he had made for his life and the life he was living were not quite the same. They were close, but the differences were there. Those differences were good, though. Better than he could have ever imagined. 

The biggest difference was one that he had never really planned for in the first place: Akaashi. 

Bokuto supposed where life had a funny way of taking you somewhere better than you planned, it also had a funny way of giving you things you didn’t know you even wanted or needed. 

Akaashi supported Bokuto through every step of his new plan. When his games were nearby, Akaashi was there. When his games were away, Akaashi watched them on television no matter his schedule.

He never complained. He never told Bokuto that he wished they could spend more time together. Akaashi only loved Bokuto with all he had, lifting him up and encouraging him through every twist and turn of the path he was on. 

And Bokuto returned that support. He watched Akaashi thrive in university, and he applauded him when Akaashi began working on his first book. When it was finally published, Bokuto took a four hour train ride to Tokyo to attend Akaashi’s signing event. He bought a copy there and insisted Akaashi sign it despite the fact that he had a signed first copy already. Then he took the four hour train ride back so he could play in a game the next day. 

When Akaashi began his career as a journalist, Bokuto read every article and watched every interview he did. He passed the articles around for his teammates to read, boasting about how important and smart and talented his boyfriend was. He sat on video calls with Akaashi late into the night, listening to him read and edit his articles aloud, offering whatever help he could. Bokuto even pretended to be people that Akaashi was going to interview, giving weird answers and doing off the wall things so Akaashi could practice his skills for in the moment. 

No, Bokuto had never planned for Akaashi in his life. But he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Bokuto lifted the collar of his jersey to wipe the sweat from his brow. It still smelled faintly of Akaashi, and Bokuto smiled. Akaashi would wear Bokuto’s jerseys to sleep in, insisting that it was good luck. Bokuto was just happy that he felt like a piece of Akaashi was with him on the court even if he couldn’t come to a game. 

This was one of those games, and Bokuto would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t disappointed. He knew why Akaashi couldn’t be there; he had an assignment for the journal he worked for, and the events were on the same day in different cities. Akaashi never complained or pouted when Bokuto couldn’t make something because of his career, though. So Bokuto wouldn’t either. He would see him soon, anyway. Akaashi would be taking the train to him as soon as he finished his assignment. 

The Black Jackals were at match point, and Bokuto could feel the heaviness in his muscles. He was tired. The team was tired. He could tell by the way Atsumu rolled his shoulders slightly, and the way Hinata slapped his thighs to encourage his legs to take him just a little further, a little higher.

The whistle sounded and the ball was in the air. Bokuto watched it arch over the net. It was received expertly by their libero, and then Sakusa, Bokuto and Hinata were running. Bokuto knew the ball was sailing through the air to Atsumu; he only had to be there when Atsumu decided who he would send his toss to. 

All three hitters jumped simultaneously, and the blockers on the other side of the net jumped too. In a split second the ball was hovering before Bokuto’s eyes, and his body acted on instinct. He slammed the ball down, an expertly executed line shot. It hit the floor with a harsh smack, then flew off into the stands.

The whistle blew again, signaling the end of the game and victory for the Black Jackals. Hinata was on Bokuto in a second, leaping onto his shoulders and crying out in excitement at their success. Atsumu joined him in their celebration, followed by the rest of the team. The crowd cheered. Even the coaches cheered. Bokuto was overwhelmed with the rush of adrenaline and joy that came with victory. 

Soon, reporters flooded the sidelines. Cameras flashed and various people called out players’ names, trying to earn just a few minutes of their time. Bokuto heard his name often, and he offered some words to a handful of reporters. The rush of the win was leaving him rapidly, though, and he was beginning to feel tired. He turned away from the cameras and began to walk toward the locker room, wiping his face with his towel. He wanted nothing more than to shower and then call Akaashi and tell him all about the game. 

He was almost to the locker room when someone called his name again. He ignored it; he didn’t have the energy to talk to another reporter. The person calling his name was insistent, though, and it sounded like they were following him. 

Bokuto spun on his heel to politely tell them he wasn’t answering any other questions at this time, but he stopped short when he saw who was calling his name. 

Akaashi had been jogging across the court to catch him, and when Bokuto stopped and turned, Akaashi crashed into him. Bokuto caught him in his arms as Akaashi wrapped him in a hug, laughing softly in his ear. 

“Akaashi?” Bokuto mumbled. He pulled back and looked at him, trying to determine if it was really his boyfriend or if he was hallucinating from dehydration or something.

“Surprise!” Akaashi said, still laughing. 

“I thought you had an assignment?”

“I did. But I finished it early and it wasn’t far from here. I caught the train and made it just in time for the game.”

Bokuto sputtered. “So… So you saw…?”

Akaashi nodded and placed his hands on Bokuto’s cheeks. He was beaming. “I saw the whole thing.” He leaned forward and kissed him. “You were amazing.”

“Hey, we were here too! Why don’t we get that kind of treatment?”

Bokuto and Akaashi looked over to see their friends approaching them. Oikawa flipped his hair dramatically and placed a hand on his hip. He used his other hand to point to his cheek. 

“I expect an excited and love filled kiss too, Bo-chan,” he chided. 

Iwaizumi smacked Oikawa on the back of the head lightly and hip-checked him, causing the taller one to stumble. Oikawa pouted. “Mean, Iwa-chan!”

Suga gave a little wave and a sweet smile. “Congratulations, Bokuto!”

Kuroo rushed over and jumped onto Bokuto, who stumbled and crashed to the court under his friend’s weight. They laughed, and Kenma came to stand next to Akaashi and shake his head at the two idiots on the floor. 

“Dude, you’re all sweaty,” Kuroo said, sticking his tongue out. 

“What did you expect?” Bokuto laughed, shoving at Kuroo’s shoulder. 

Kuroo helped Bokuto stand then clapped him on the shoulder. “Congrats on the win.”

“Thank you,” Bokuto replied. He smiled at his friends. “Thank you all for coming.”

Iwaizumi waved his hand dismissively. “The game was literally a twenty minute train ride away. You act like we haven’t traveled further to see you play.”

The captain called for Bokuto then, and he had to leave his friends to attend a meeting. Afterwards, he showered quickly and met his friends outside. They all boarded a train to head home together. 

Having the final game of the season so near a coastal town was certainly a plus. It was even better when that town was the place where half of your friends grew up. 

Bokuto listened to the waves on the shore, letting himself be rocked to sleep by the gentle swaying of the hammock he lounged in. He could hear his friends around him chattering and opening drinks to share. Music played softly in the background. He recognized the mix from Iwaizumi’s latest album. 

The hammock tilted and dipped, then a warm body was on top of his. He cracked an eye open to peer at Akaashi. 

“Hi,” Akaashi whispered, pressing a kiss into Bokuto’s jaw. 

Bokuto hummed. “Hey, hey.”

“You look tired.”

“I am tired.”

Bokuto closed his eyes again and felt Akaashi run his hands through his hair. After a moment, Akaashi squirmed a bit to situate himself more comfortably in the hammock. He rested his head on Bokuto’s shoulder and traced little circles into his chest right over his heart. 

“Now that the season is over, we’ll be able to spend more time together,” Bokuto mumbled. He didn’t open his eyes. 

He felt Akaashi nod. “I can’t wait.” 

“Do you want to go somewhere special?”

“Like where?”

Bokuto shrugged. “I don’t know. We could go anywhere. Maybe America. California.”

Akaashi laughed. “You want to pay to go on a beach vacation in America when we can have a free one right here?”

“I don’t care where we go as long as I’m with you.”

Akaashi hummed in response. They were both quiet for a moment. 

“I love you,” Akaashi said softly. 

“I love you too.”

Bokuto turned his head to press a kiss into Akaashi’s forehead. He kept his lips there and let himself relax into the hammock and against Akaashi. Just beyond where they lay, the ocean bubbled and lapped at the shore playfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, this fic had a song at its foundation. Give it a listen if you so desire: ["California" by Silent Pilot](https://open.spotify.com/track/70Pp97qc7tP8T0cuTiPX5G?si=SFVOF1J1Qo2t7I9ZDEIVtQ)
> 
> Find me on tumblr [@iliura](https://iliura.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Finally, thank you all so much for the love and support I've gotten for this fic! It's the fluffiest thing I have ever written. Take care!


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